


A Thousand Lifetimes (And I'll Always Love You)

by littlemisslol



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Varian and the Seven Kingdoms
Genre: A whole bunch of fluff and garbage tropes get HYPE, Fluff, M/M, These are basically all AUs lol, Varigo Week 2020, very very very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemisslol/pseuds/littlemisslol
Summary: Varigo Week 2020 baby!!Day One: Cozy/SoftDay Two: First KissDay Three: Betrayal/PossessionDay Four: CampfireDay Five: First Meeting/First DateDay Six: Flirting/TeasingDay Seven: Free Day!
Relationships: Hugo/Varian (Disney: Varian and the Seven Kingdoms)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 158





	1. Day One: Cozy/Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo wakes up in his new forever.

There was something about mornings that Hugo’s always hated. He’s not sure if it’s the light, or the rude awakenings he’d experienced as Donella’s lackey in a time that seemed forever ago, or even the consistent feeling that he’d never slept enough. It’s hard to pin _exactly_ what the worst part of it, was, but one thing remained a constant.

Mornings were the _worst_.

Hugo pries green eyes open with a groan, slumping that little bit deeper into the plush bed underneath him. His mouth cracks open in a large yawn, stretching out with languid limbs like a content cat, hands reaching towards the ceiling. One of his hands comes down to rub at the bleariness in his eyes, pulling at pale skin in an attempt to wake himself up. His vision swims for a second, the stone ceiling above blurring in a sudden mess of colours. A sudden shock of cold metal against the skin of his face perks him up, the blond shaking himself to stare at the hand that he’d been rubbing at his eye with.

A simple, golden ring stares back at him.

Oh. Oh _right_.

A sudden, giddy feeling fills Hugo at the sight of his new wedding ring, the polished gold shining in the early morning sunshine. The warmth of the bed suddenly seems all the more cozy, soft and warm and welcoming in a new way. His surroundings, still blurry without his glasses, slowly fuzzes into focus; the ornate bedroom they’d tumbled into after the reception was aglow with the morning sun, light bouncing off high ceilings and stone walls; every flat surface of the walls covered in drapery and fine paintings of kings gone by and battles won. Yesterday’s wedding had been a flurry of activity, of frantic servants and staff all scrambling to make it perfect for Hugo and-

A small snuffle sounds to Hugo’s left; he finally notices the slight weight on his chest with a small grin.

Varian, still fast asleep, burrows his face into Hugo’s shoulder with a sleepy noise, grumbling as the morning light filters through the windows. His hair is mussed and wild, looking like a crow’s nest from their busy night. Hugo can’t help but grin as he looks down at his new husband, something soft and simple as he leans down to press a kiss to the crown of Varian’s head. Varian snuffles again, a hand unconsciously coming up to lay right in the center of Hugo’s chest. From there Hugo can see the matching ring on Varian’s finger, a simple golden band that glitters.

His chest fills with warmth at the sight of the ring, Hugo idly reaching his own hand up to link their hands together, tangling their fingers so he can see both rings side by side. Varian murmurs something at the small movement, unconsciously kissing at the junction of Hugo’s shoulder and his neck. The blond can’t help but laugh at that, leaning down to press another kiss to his boyfriend’s hair. There’s something warm that settles in his chest at the movement, a fuzzy, soft heat that curls around his heart and squeezes tight. Hugo breathes deeply at the feeling, basking in the moment- the light, the softness, the warmth of Varian here with him-

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you sleep,” Hugo murmurs, “Of I’d be waking you up to go get breakfast.”

Varian answers with a snore.

Hugo laughs again, settling back into the pillows. Something in him was still so shocked that _this was his life_ \- five years ago he’d never thought he’d be married to the man of his dreams, curled up on a luxuriously soft bed together in the early morning without a care. Hugo hadn’t thought it possible for him to be this content, this at ease with where he was in the world. He had a job he loved, a purpose beyond figuring out where his next meal would come from, and the promised future of a _forever_ with Varian at his side; it was all laid out in front of him ready for the taking. Hugo had never been so excited to see a new day before, never thought towards the future without that impending sense of dread, never-

“What’re you thinking ‘bout?”

Varian.  
  


“Nothing, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo grins, looking down at his new husband. “Just something from the library is all.”

Varian blinks at him, the sleep still thick in his gaze. Hugo wants to coo, to cry, to mess up his hair even worse than it already is- Varian looks like a tired puppy this early in the morning, and it’s adorable.

“Stop lying.” Varian mumbles, shoving his face into Hugo’s chest with a yawn. “I hate when you do that.”

Hugo reels back as much as he’s able, meaning mostly just a small lean of his neck and shoulders, looking at Varian with a sense of offense. “How did you even-”

“Your nose does a little crinkle when you lie.” Varian answers without looking up, content to close his eyes and settle down again, laying on top of Hugo like a particularly boney blanket. “And you stare right between my eyes instead of actually looking at me.”

Hugo… can’t help but laugh. “You got me,” He mutters, leaning his head to prop his cheek against Varian’s head. The blond is quick to wrap an arm around his husband- and oh, by the Maker is he never going to get tired of _that_ \- and tugs Varian closer to him. The shorter man goes willingly, curling closer and hugging Hugo tightly. They stay like that for a few minutes in silence, quietly basking in the other’s presence, before Varian peeks up to look Hugo in the eye.

“Really, what were you thinking about?” He asks again, “You had your thinking face on.”

Hugo snorts, kissing the crown of Varian’s head. Varian smiles up at him with a dumb look on his face, utterly besotted. Hugo’s had that look directed at him before, even from Varian more times to count, but _gods_ does it still set Hugo’s heart racing to see it.

“I’m just thinking about last night.” He grins in his most sultry voice, “Was it good for you too- _ahk_!”

Varian snatches a pillow and _whaps_ him with it, cutting Hugo off with a cry of protest. Hugo takes the beating like a champ, letting Varian bap him with the pillow a few more times before the younger calls it quits.

“You’re an ass.” Varian grunts, flopping back down onto Hugo’s chest like he hadn’t done a damn thing wrong in his life. Though, if you ask Hugo he’d defend that stance.

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ ass,” Hugo smirks, letting his arm wrap back around Varian’s waist loosely. Varian pushes into the touch, hugging tighter. The shorter alchemist grabs at Hugo’s hand, the one with the ring, and intertwines their finger the same was Hugo had done previously. Varian pulls their hand close to his lips, pressing a long kiss to where their rings touch before settling back down into their nest of pillows.

  
“Yeah,” Varian says with a smile, “You are.”

Hugo feels himself melt a little at that, hugging his husband tightly. The morning sun continues to shine through their windows, catching off the golden bands on their fingers, on Varian’s eyes, on the shining floors of their bedroom. It’s like a beacon, calling Hugo forwards into the future. A new life, a new start, with the man of his dreams and a purpose he loves. It’s here, in the softness and the warmth and the comfort of this new beginning, that Hugo pauses and thinks:

Maybe mornings aren’t _that_ bad after all.


	2. Day Two: First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is something to be said about the art of the deal.

They said that if you wanted a favor, you could always go ask the Witch of the Iron Wood.

Varian’s sure it’s bullshit, of course it is. Witches aren’t real- the only magic that he’s ever come across is from artifacts and space rocks; things that, no matter how you looked at it, are already goddamn weird to start with. _Magic_ is just a type of power they have yet to harness, something celestial and ancient- but _within the parameters of science_.

He’s never believed the rumours, that if you went to the woods bordering Corona and the Iron Kingdom and walked so deep into the woods you risked getting lost, you might come across the esteemed witch. For a price, they said, the witch would grant you a single wish and be done with you. Your debt would be paid, and you’d wake up in your own bed without a clue as to how you got there, with your wish fulfilled. Varian’s never believed it, never _wanted_ to believe it- he’s a man of science, damn it, and he’ll _stick_ to science, thank you very much.

But…

Then his dad had gotten sick.

Something in Quirin’s lungs- potentially too many cold mornings working in the field, maybe too long trapped in the amber, or perhaps just a stroke of bad luck- had festered and eaten away at him, leaving the man nearly bedridden in a matter of weeks. Varian, only twenty, had been forced to listen as the doctor recommended that Quirin start writing an airtight will, _just in case_ , to assure that Varian would be taken care of in case… in case Quirin didn’t make it.

Varian had worked himself into a tizzy, refusing to leave his father’s side, brewing medicine and other alchemical solutions in an attempt to find a cure, a fix-it, _something, anything_ , to save his father. But nothing had worked, and Varian was at his wits end.

So when someone had spoken of their own failed trek to find the witch, Varian- desperate as he was- had packed a bag and started running.

It was a long shot, longer than he liked to think, but if there was even a semblance of a chance that this _Witch_ _of the Iron Wood_ could help his father… then Varian was willing to try. So he’d packed a bag, left his father in the competent care of Old Corona’s best physician, and had started the three-day trek to the Iron Wood.

The forest was ancient, and it wore its years well. Grand trees stood nearly thirty meters tall, gnarled and drooping with ivy and vines, covered every inch of the woods in a way that suffocated light and sound. Standing at the threshold Varian had nearly turned back- _what good was he to his father if he ended up lost in the woods… or dead?_ \- but the memory of Quirin’s pale face and limp chest spurred him forwards, allowing the woods to swallow him whole.

He’d wandered for a two days, tripping over twisted roots and sleeping in trees to keep himself away from curious wildlife. It’s on the third day, when Varian’s well and truly lost, that he stumbles upon the cabin. It’s plain, humble. well kept but obviously old in the way the creeping ivy had grown close around the building, digging deep into the stone over the course of years.

It's set in a small clearing, surrounded by a lush garden of herbs and plants Varian has no name for- he’s never been one for the apothecary side of the sciences- and a prim, well built fence. It’s a modest cabin, made of cobblestone and thick wooden timbers, with a single chimney merrily spitting a small plume of smoke. The windows are large, and Varian can catch sight of rows of plants poking out from under the curtains inside.

The cabin is warm, inviting.

Suspicious.

Varian approaches with caution, walking forwards with a tenseness to his shoulders. He can’t be sure if this _the_ cabin, or just _a_ cabin, but it’s best to approach as if it were a trap- better to be wrong and look strange, than be too casual and end up dead. Birdsong rings through the calm clearing; sunlight beams down in shining pillars that sets the grass aglow. He doesn’t trust it for a second.

There’s a little stone path that leads up to the front door. Varian follows it with a measured step, ignoring the happy little bees that gently float between the flowers. For all he knows, this is a trap. The Witch of the Iron Wood could be a con artist, a thief, hell, even an actual witch who wasn’t super into the idea of helping people so much as sacrificing them for weird witch-spells.

Magic bullshit. Can’t be too careful.

Still, Varian wasn’t raised in a barn; when he reaches the oak front door he still knocks like a normal person, and waits for an answer. It doesn’t come. Curiously, he raises his hand to knock against the old door again, only for the door to swing wide open by itself with a long, drawn out creak of old hinges.

“Oh, that’s creepy.” Varian mutters to himself, peeking into the dark interior of the cabin beyond. “ _Super_ creepy.”

He peeks behind himself, looking back down the path with a grimace. He could just turn around, go home… but then what if Quirin wasn’t improving? What if he was _worse_ , and Varian had turned away from an option to save him because he was scared? Varian’s hands clench at the thought, so tightly he can feel his nails through his gloves. He turns back around and gazes into the darkness in front of him.

Teeth grit, Varian walks forwards into the cabin.

The interior of the building is just as well maintained as the exterior. The room Varian steps into is a great room of some sort, a larger space with a small kitchen pushed to the side and a series of mismatched, but well loved, couches and chairs surrounding a large fireplace in the very center of the room. Hanging above the fireplace is a large cauldron, filled to the brim with a smoking, bright purple concoction. The light from outside filters through the wall of plants Varian had noticed while outside, keeping the interior relatively dark.

“ _This place just keeps getting creepier_ ,” Varian grumbles into the empty air, approaching the cauldron with hesitant steps.

“Well, thank you, I built it myself.” Comes a snarky voice from behind, startling Varian into flinging himself forwards, hiding behind the cast iron cauldron. For a brief second, he considers making a break for the door-

Which slams shut of its own accord.

Perfect.

Varian risks a peek up and over the edge of the cauldron, the steam hazing his vision over as he crouches on the floorboards. Before him stands a blond man, looking at Varian with an expectant expression. It tugs at his pale face in an attractive way, tilts his glasses askew in a way that compliments the choppy blond hair and pony tail the taller boy sports. He’s dressed in green, a similar shade to his honestly _stunning_ eyes and-

Wow. _Wow_ okay time to tone that down.

Varian peeks over the lip of the cauldron a little more, sizing the taller man up. The other stands between Varian and the door, he’d have to get around him to get out-

“So, what is it that you want?” The blond asks, and Varian realizes how out of place he is.

“I- _sorry_!” Varian crows, stepping back from the cauldron as if it’d burnt him. “Sorry, the door was open, and I’m actually looking for someone that lives out here, and-”

“Listen.” Blondie cuts him off. “I know that you’re here to ask your _favour_ , so. What is it? Gold, immortality, love? I don’t have all day, spit it out.”

“I-”

“Wait, no, I bet you I can guess. You look like a nerd, something to do with fame? Glory?”

“No!”

Blondie raises a brow. There’s a brief second of pause, before Varian finally fully creeps out from behind the cauldron. He takes a breath. _For dad_ , he thinks.

“My name is Varian,” He starts. The blond man raises a brow, looking rather confused to be given a name. “What’s yours?”

“H-Hugo.” The blond stutters a bit, like he wasn’t ready to be asked that. Varian smiles.

“Hugo,” He repeats. “Nice to meet you. Are you the one everyone’s been calling a witch?”

“Sure am.” Hugo replies, taking a step forward. Varian feels his face light up, even as he’s passed by in lieu of the cauldron. Hugo begins to stir the liquid, looking at it judgementally. He twists around towards one of the plants on the windowsill, plucking a leaf off it and tossing it in. The mixture goes a shade of green, not unlike pea soup.

“Great!” Varian chirps, “I was wondering if you’d be able to help me?”

“Yeah, your _wish_ , right?” Hugo mutters, “That’s all anyone ever cares about. So what is it you want?”

“I- that’s a little sad.” Varian says, “No one ever just visits you?”

“Nope,” Hugo says, popping the p. “And neither did you, so spit it out.”

“My… my father is sick.” Varian finally says, looking to the floor. “I’ve tried everything I can think of to help him get better, but nothing works.”

Hugo pauses in his stirring, looking back to Varian with a calculating look. “You realize you could ask for _anything_ , right?” He says, “Eternal life, endless fortune, riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I didn’t think that was real.” Varian replies, frankly. “I thought you would just be a skilled healer. That’s all I was looking for.”

“Just medicine.” Hugo says, as if he thinks it’s a joke. His face twists into something confused when Varian nods.

“Just medicine.” The shorter of them says with conviction. “Nothing else. Whatever your price is, I’ll pay it; I just want my father to be well again.”

Hugo looks to Varian like he’s grown a second head. Varian looks at him with a schooled expression, choking back the anxiety boiling in his gut. If this didn’t work, if this _Hugo_ couldn’t help him, then Quirin would surely not have long left-

“Fine.” Hugo says, “I think that’s a stupid wish, but who am I to stop you from throwing it away?”

Varian’s expression must do something stupid, because Hugo laughs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” He mutters, reaching forwards towards Varian with a grin. The shorter of them feels his face heat up in a blush, going red at their sudden closeness, but winces when Hugo reaches up and tugs a single strand of hair from his hair.

“Ow,” Varian whines, rubbing at the spot the hair had been tugged from. “Why’d you do that?”

“Ingredients.” Hugo chides, “And unless you’re going to stop asking stupid questions, you can go wait outside.”

Varian pauses at that, quietly taking a seat on one of the chairs. Hugo looks at him with another questioning expression, but eventually the blond shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He mutters, and goes back to his work.

Varian watches with rapt attention as herbs and other ingredients get tossed into the cauldron in precise amounts, the mixture going every colour of the rainbow over the next hour. Hugo works quickly, focused on his… potion? Elixir? Varian’s not sure what to call it actually. While Varian keeps from asking questions, that doesn’t stop him from watching with a keen eye as the mixture continues to bubble. After an hour, it eventually turns a rather pleasant shade of lilac purple and stops smoking. Hugo looks smug about it, so Varian assumes the mixture must be finished.

Hugo takes a small pipette from a nearby shelf of strange looking glass instruments- Varian would kill to be able to know what they all did, though Hugo doesn’t seem apt to share- and uses the tool to transfer some of the mixture into a small, glass vial. He does this three more times, making a total of four, before placing them into a small bag.

“And done.” Hugo says, more to himself than to Varian. He twists around with a smarmy grin, holding the bag out. Varian looks at it with a sense of wonderous apprehension, reaching out a hand but stopping himself before he can touch the crushed red velvet. He stands from the couch, pursing his lips.

“What’s the trade?” He asks without malice, but with a hefty amount of suspicion. Hugo’s smile draws wider, and Varian brings his hand fully back to his chest. _Always a catch, with magic_ , something cynical in him groans, _absolute bullshit_.

“Well,” Hugo muses, “There’s always things that I need from around, though to be honest I’m pretty stocked up on anything I could want.”

“Surely there’s something?” Varian says with a hint of panic- Hugo wouldn’t make the stupid potion only to refuse to trade Varian for it, right? The previous anxiety rears its head again; stupid _magic_ , honestly, always being so contrived.

“There is one thing,” Hugo muses, eyes trailing on Varian’s face. The shorter man feels himself blush again as Hugo steps close, cupping his chin in a way that feels scarily intimate for someone he’s only just met. “One, tiny thing…” Hugo says, trailing off. Varian can’t help but feel a little thrill, pressing closer, unconsciously, to the _extremely attractive_ man in front of him.

“Anything.” Varian says with a small grin of his own, having half an idea of where Hugo might be going with this from the way the blond’s gaze lingers on Varian’s own lips. He’s not against it, not at all; Varian’s not the type, usually, but something about the blond in front of him draws him in. Hugo’s smile widens at the permission, leaning forwards.

It’s a chaste kiss, a little too soft and sweet for strangers, but one that Varian can say he enjoys. He’s never been kissed before, but if _this_ is what it’s like- the smooth press of lips against his own, the soft feeling of a body pressed up against his front- suddenly all those romantic ballads make a lot more sense.

Varian’s eyes slip closed, barely registering as the bag is slipped into his hands. After what could be hours, or merely seconds, Hugo pulls back. Varian keeps his eyes closed, hoping to entice the blond to come back and kiss him again.

“Have your father drink that twice a day, every twelve hours.” Hugo says, his tone somewhat sad. When Varian opens his eyes again, he is standing in his bedroom, alone. He brings up a dazed hand to lightly touch at his lips, blinking in shock.

The sudden silence rings in his ears. 

****

“Well, Olivia.” Hugo says to his beloved pet, “Another few hours to go, and then we’ll break for dinner.”

He’s out in his garden, weeding. Nimble, long fingers deftly pull undesirable plants from his herbs, tossing them into a nearby pile. Oliva, small little mouse that she is, does her own work of yanking out the smaller plants, working on her own pile. Hugo smiles as she chirps her assent at his idea, plopping a rogue dandelion on her pile with a squeak.

It had been nearly a week since Varian had come to ask for his favour from Hugo- the blond couldn’t help but miss his company, to be honest. After the few hours they’d spent together, Hugo found himself to be a little enamoured. Hugo’s had dealt with every thrill seeker in the book, those who came to his cabin demanding fame, or glory, or riches, but he’d yet to encounter someone who had been so willing to make the dangerous walk to Hugo’s home for the sake of a family member. Varian had asked his name before asking for his help, had commented that it was sad that no one visited him. He’d been… genuine. Nice. Treated Hugo’s skills like they were less something to be demanded, and more like a gift to be asked for. He had been sweet, and it made something in Hugo bitter.

It was a lonely life, out in the woods, but a peaceful one. Hugo was willing to live alone if it meant he was mostly left to his own devices, though times like when Varian had arrived, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of the isolation creeping in. Perhaps that was why he’d asked for the kiss, though now Hugo felt rather stupid about it. What else could he have asked from Varian? Something more useful for sure. Supplies, food, _anything_ really to save him a walk. But instead his stupid brain had seen a pretty boy and gone totally blank. Hugo can’t help but be a little concerned at that- if he started giving things out for free, he’d surely be in trouble when winter rolled around. 

Oliva squeaked again, this time something that sounded concerned. Hugo looked up from his plot of dirt to see her rush over to him, the little mouse scrambling up his shirt to perch on his shoulder. He looked up to where she had come from, seeing a familiar figure standing on the edge of the grove.

“Hi, Hugo!” Varian said with a grin, holding up a small basket. “I was wondering if you wanted some company?”

Hugo… short circuits. “What?” He asks dumbly as Varian walks towards him. The shorter man pauses at the gate, his face asking to be let in. Hugo nods, still stunned as Varian- _Varian had come back????-_ lets himself in and strides over to Hugo with a smile.

“Well, you said no one ever came to visit.” Varian said softly, “So I thought I’d change that.”

“You… don’t want anything?” Hugo asks, struck stupid.

“Well, I mean, I want to talk to you.” Varian flushes, biting at his lip. “And I wanted to thank you. And so does my dad! He helped me make this for you.” Varian shoves the basket at Hugo with a sudden motion, as if embarrassed to have it now that he’s dragged it all the way here.

“He’s doing better, then?” Hugo says, taking the basket without thinking. It’s got some weight to it. A peek under the lid shows about four loaves of fresh bread, tucked away and kept good by a thick towel.

“Much, thank you.” Varian says earnestly, “He was up and walking the day after I came to see you.”

“That’s good.” Hugo muses, lost in thought. No one had ever come back to see him after they’d gotten their wish, let alone to _thank him and bring him another gift._

Varian nods with a smile, one that’s bright and happier than the one he’d worn before. Hugo likes it on him. “It’s fantastic.” He breathes, “I owe you more than you could ever know.”

“Nah, we’re even.” Hugo says, flushing at the memory of Varian’s lips on his. “Your debt’s been paid.”

“Oh,” Varian says, looking sideways. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure you don’t want to- uh. Again. Never mind.”

Oh.

_Oh._

“Hm.” Hugo muses, catching on quick, “Actually, you know, I think something went wrong the first time.” 

Varian perks up at that, looking to Hugo with a small grin. “Oh?” He asks, “Should we- maybe…”

“Sorry, goggles.” Hugo shrugs, leaning forwards, “Looks like we’ll need a second payment.”

“Aw, shucks.” Varian rolls his eyes, leaning forwards with a smirk, “Whatever am I going to do?”

“Eh, we’ll figure it out. Put you on a repayment plan.” Hugo grins, teasing for just a second more before Varian grabs him by the collar and drags Hugo down into a fiery kiss, their smiles melding together in the quiet of the grove. When they split for air, Varian smiles.

“I can live with that,” He says, and Hugo can feel the grin splitting his face as he leans back down.

Their third kiss is the best one yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day two done!! I am L I V I N G for varigo week my dudes omg bless alistair for making this happen!!


	3. Day Three: Betrayal/Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year after the events of _Dear Fellow Traveller_ the boys take some time to reflect. 
> 
> (Sorry this one isn't going to make sense unless you've read that beast OOPS)

“Do you remember that time you were possessed by a magic space rock?”

Varian pauses from where he’s poking at their campfire, frozen in confusion for a brief second.

“I- obviously?” Varian answers, looking over to where Hugo was tying Dolos to a tree for the night. “It was, like, a year ago. Are you telling me you _forgot_?”

“No,” Hugo shrugs, “Just, that was really fucked up, wasn’t it?”

Varian opens his mouth. Shuts it. Thinks for a second. Opens his mouth again. Sighs.

“Yeah.” He finally says with a shrug, “I don’t know if _really fucked up_ quite covers it but sure, let’s go with that.”

Hugo grins- Varian feels a weight lift off him at the sight of that smile. “Why do you ask?” Varian prompts him, standing from the now crackling fire. Hugo moves away from their old horse, slapping his hands together to remove the dirt from them as he walks closer. Varian raises a brow at him, challenging. Hugo smiles at him again; Varian feels something in him melt, much to his own annoyance. Varian might have Hugo wrapped around his pinky finger (as much as Hugo would deny it), but it was certainly a two-way street.

“Was just thinking.” Hugo mumbles, looking away. “It’s been a year. Time flies.”

Varian bites at his lip, quietly kicking his heel into the dirt. A small rush of power brought up a small set of the black rocks into perfect plateaus, at mid thigh height. Hugo doesn’t even startle anymore when they appear, not like he used to when they first met; back then, Hugo had always jumped when the rocks burst from the seams between the earth. Instead, Hugo just takes his place next to the fire, reaching into a nearby bag to bring out an iron skillet. With a waggle of his eyebrows he spins it between his deft fingers- Varian laughs at the showmanship, settling next to his boyfriend with a smile.

“A whole year, huh?” The shorter teenager muses. His hand goes to the pendent around his throat, the small vial glowing a bright teal into the steadily darkening forest around them. The sunset was mostly hidden tonight by the towering trees surrounding them, keeping them hidden away from the world. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

And it didn’t, truly. Hugo and Varian had spent months on the road only stopping one to visit the farm-apologizing to Quirin, gaining his blessing, getting his sword- before taking off again. Pincosta had been their next destination. It had been nice, Varian had enjoyed finally getting to truly experience a city without fear of discovery- and, of course, to get to explore with Hugo had been an added bonus. After a week or so of staying in the city, trying foods, meeting people, seeing the sights, they’d moved on to the next adventure.

And the next one.

And the one after that.

It was exhilarating, the idea of always having something to look forwards to. It wasn’t the destination that either of them cared for, merely being able to enjoy the time spent together. Though Varian constantly kept them moving- skirting through towns and cities and through country after country in the need to see it _all_ \- Hugo wasn’t one to complain, only smiling as they planned their next course.

The fire crackles next to them with a bright joy. Varian snuggles into Hugo’s side with a soft smile, pressing kisses to the underside of his boyfriend’s chin. Hugo tilts his head so their lips meet, the kiss soft and sweet in the dimming light of the forest. When they break, Hugo presses another small smooch to the tip of Varian’s nose, laughing when it scrunches.

He uses the split second to turn back to the fire, holding the skillet up expectantly. Varian cuddles close again, pressing as close to the taller teen as he can, before turning to the fire as well. With a small smile he raises a hand, palm upwards, and feels a small _push_ from within- no longer cold, but _warm_ in the center of his chest as the power of the Moonstone flows through him.

A small collection of black rocks raise from the earth surrounding the fire, branching off into a small, grid like platform. Hugo’s smile gets wider as he places the skillet on top of the platform with a grin, bringing out a small vial of cooking oil and dropping it in. Varian blinks drowsily, curling up tighter as Hugo wraps an arm around him.

“Aw, falling asleep on me already?” Hugo asks quietly, “It’s barely sunset.”

In reply, Varian only yawns, his jaw almost popping with the force of it. Hugo presses his cheek to the top of Varian’s head, burying his face into the shorter boy’s hair.

“I do what I want.” Varian murmurs, kissing at Hugo’s jaw with a little peck.

“Hell yeah you do, goggles.” Hugo’s voice is… off. Nearly melancholy. Varian blinks away from his stupor and peeks upwards to look at Hugo’s face- he catches a brief second of stress cross that pale skin and green eyes, but once Hugo notices he’s being watched he tamps it down and smiles.

Varian doesn’t buy it.

“What?” The shorter of them asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

It’s fast, too fast. Like a deflection.

“No, hey, c’mon Hugo.” Varian’s tone isn’t demanding, but firm. “We don’t do secrets, not anymore.”

Hugo pauses at that. Sighs.

“It’s been a year.” He says. “Exactly.”

Varian feels his brows draw together. A year since they’d gotten together, it’s their anniversary. They’d had a nice, slow day together just to celebrate it, so why-

“A year since I almost lost you.” Hugo says, and _oh,_ the pieces start to fit together. Varian feels something hard settle in his gut. “She almost- I almost-”

Varian can’t help the shudder at the word _she_ \- the Moonstone, the voice that had whispered C̶̨̢̻͍̞̞̜̻̫͍̗̻͂̄͋͂̑̽̍͊̓̽̚̕ͅō̶̡͖͈̭̗̦̱̒̆̑̑̇̇̔͝m̵̢͙̗͇͎̺̣͇͖͍̦̯͉̠̽̅̿̾̏̌̿͑̓̚͝e̶̢̧̥̳͈̺̦̟͍̱͈̐̿̔̂̋̓̒̽̅̚͝ ̵̨̭͓͈̼̟̗̱̬̹̈́̋͠Ṣ̵̡̻̠̣͈̣̍̑͑͊̊͌̚͝͝e̴̡̧̨̪̯̬͚̝̪͖͍͖͎̩̐̓̄̀͘e̶͈̬̟̙̬̟̺͝ͅ to him for years, only to try and take his body for her own when he refused to bend to her will- had nearly torn them apart in more ways than one. There’s a lot he wants to say to Hugo, _no, I’m safe, it’s okay, we made it out_ -

“But you didn’t.” Is what he ends up saying, the words tripping over his tongue. Hugo laughs, bitter, angry.

“By pure, dumb luck.” He mutters, reaching over and shaking the skillet with more force than is necessary. The oil in it pops and spits, nearly hot enough. “What if she comes back?”

“She won’t-” Varian tries to argue.

“But if she _does_.”

“She _won’t_.”

“How can you be sure, glowstick?”

And how can he? The Moonstone hadn’t said a word since the day her tower fell, since Hugo had pulled Varian back from the brink of darkness, but how could they be certain that she wasn’t waiting for them to let their guard down? How could they know that one day Varian wouldn’t be sleepwalking to his own death again?

“I- I’m not.” Varian finally says, and Hugo’s other arm wraps around him. They sit like that for what feels like hours, but could only be minutes. Varian basks in the feeling of Hugo’s arms, snuggling close. He feels safe, _knows_ he’s safe- “But I don’t need to be.”

“And why’s that?” Hugo grunts, not angry but despondent.

“Because you’re here.” Varian replies, as if that solves all his problems. “Hugo, you- you pulled me back. Not Adira, not Hector… hell if my dad were there, I don’t know if he could have done it either. But _you_ did. And if… _she_ comes back, then we’ll deal with it then. But there’s no use obsessing over it. Not tonight, not tomorrow. For all we know, she’ll never come back. If we keep worrying about it, we’ll worry ourselves sick.”

Hugo’s arms tighten around his waist.

“I love you.” Varian murmurs, tilting his head up to kiss Hugo’s cheek. “So, so much. And I have it on good authority that you love me too-”

“More than anything else in the world.”

“-So _if_ she comes back, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Hugo finally cracks a small smile at that, leaning so he can kiss Varian again. It’s something almost desperate, but Varian accepts it with grace. He tries to ignore the feeling of Hugo’s tears on his cheeks.

“I love you,” Hugo croaks, “I’m sorry.”

“I love you too.” Varian murmurs, smiling like a dope. “And don’t be. It was… a lot, in very rapid succession. It’d be unfair to just expect everything to be okay afterwards.”

“But we’ll get through it, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Together?”

Varian smiles, squirms closer so he’s fully sitting in Hugo’s lap. Hugo looks at him like he’s hung the moon in the sky- it makes Varian feel like he could take on the world and win.

“Together.” He murmurs, tugging Hugo’s face up for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww I think I missed writing in this verse, I really did like writing Traveller so much. Ah, to be two idiots traveling the world together in a shitty caravan.


	4. Day Four: Campfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys take a small step towards something more.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

The campfire nearly drowns out Varian’s soft voice, cracking merrily in the center of their campsite. Its light cuts through the darkness of the evening, warm and soft as Hugo and Varian sit on a log, facing one another. Hugo smiles through his cracked lip, blood sliding down his chin. Another drop follows, this time from a cut in his forehead. He blinks through a black eye, focusing on Varian’s melancholy face.

“Nah, of course I had to.” Hugo grins. The split in his lip only gets more pronounced. Varian scoffs, using water from his canteen to re-wet the blue rag in his hands. He brings it up to dab at Hugo’s face, trying to be gentle. Hugo winces. Varian sighs.

“Oh, suck it up, you big baby.” Varian mutters, continuing to dab at the nasty cut on Hugo’s forehead. “You _shouldn’t_ have done it, how about that?”

Hugo continues to grin in a self-satisfied way, pushing his lips out in a pout. “Don’t I even get a thank you?” he whines, leaning closer. “I think I deserve one.”

Varian can’t help but laugh, pushing him away. “Yeah, thanks for getting your ass kicked so hard I had to drag you out of there.”

Hugo’s pout sinks into something real that that- another line of blood falls down and nearly drips into his eye. Varian rolls his eyes, pushing Hugo’s glasses up onto his head to wipe it away.

“Thank you.” He finally says, quietly, softly, looking away towards the fire. “You didn’t have to, but you did.”

Hugo pauses, leaning back and letting his face fall. “That guy was being a dick.” Hugo grunts, looking out in the opposite direction, towards the darkness of the forest. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Varian sighs again, moves back to dabbing at Hugo’s face.

“Still.” He murmurs. “Thank you. I appreciate you trying to step in.”

Hugo shrugs. The smile that takes over his face this time is more genuine, something softer and open in a way that Varian’s never really seen from him before. It makes him look younger, less harsh- almost handsome. The younger teen shakes himself; this wasn’t the time for those kinds of thoughts. Hugo needed medical attention, not for Varian’s big, stupid crush to rear its ugly head and make an ass of them both.

“But.” Varian says with a grimace as he lifts up Hugo’s hand, biting his lip at the sight of split, bruised knuckles. “You still didn’t really _win_.”

“Hey, he stopped trying to flirt with you, didn’t he?” Hugo grins- and _there it was_. The reason they were dancing around, trying not to acknowledge _why_ Hugo had felt the need to step in between Varian and one of the townsfolk they’d run into while hunting for supplies. The guy had been flirty, smarmy and gross, but nothing Varian couldn’t handle after a few years of people trying to get into the _Royal Engineer’s_ good graces- or, more specifically, his bed- and yet, when the guy hadn’t taken _no_ for an answer and had gotten aggressive, there was Hugo.

And then there was the fight.

Varian bites at his lip as he quietly cleans Hugo’s split knuckles with the damp cloth. Hugo winces at the contact, but Varian can see how he holds it back. _Trying to seem tough_ , Varian muses, _trying and failing._

“I guess I’ll give you that.” He finally answers, thinking back to Hugo’s question. “He _did_ run pretty fast.” Varian snorts at the memory. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone run _that_ quickly at the sight of a guard.”

  
Hugo laughs as well, mouth twisting into a grin. “I bet I could catch him.” The blond muses, staring off into the distance as if the guy was waiting in the bushes. “We could see if he had anything good on him-”

“Hey, no.” Varian chides, pressing on a bruise harder than was needed to draw Hugo’s attention back. “No stealing, you promised.”

“It’s barely stealing.” Hugo shrugs, “He would’ve earned it.”

“For being a dick?”

“For touching you.”

Varian… pauses. The hand holding the rag freezes in mid air. Hugo squints for a brief second before his eyes go wide, the blond stuttering.

“I- wait, okay- wipe that look off your face.”

Varian feels his face settle into a small, bashful smile, looking away as Hugo continues to panic.

“ _No_ , listen, you’re a pain in my ass-” Varian blushes harder at the obvious attempt to divert, “-and you’re annoying as hell- _stop looking at me like that-_ ”

Hugo’s bright red now, hands up to smack Varian’s out of the way. Both of them are cherry red in the light of the fire, Varian slowly lowering his gaze to the ground as Hugo flails. He buries his face in his hands to try and stop the flush of his skin, covering his eyes as the blond next to him continues to try and do damage control. The bubble of embarrassed laughter takes him by surprise, but he goes along with it.

“-and your dorky backpack sucks.” Hugo says, as if that helps any of the awkwardness go away. Varian only laughs harder, pressing the heels of his palm into his eyes. The younger teen looks up at Hugo with a sigh, the giggles peeling off into a frustrated sigh.

“You know, it’s okay to like people.” Varian says as if that fixes anything. “If you’d let someone in, I’d bet they’d surprise you.”

Hugo purses his lips, unbelieving. “Nah.” He shrugs, “I know you’re all about that touchy-feely shit, but I’m not.”

Hugo shoves at Varian’s hand, not roughly but with more than enough force to get it out of the way, and stands. He starts to stalk towards the tents, the flush still prominent on his pale skin. Varian lunges to his feet, grabbing at Hugo’s wrist before he can get too far.

They stand like that, frozen in time. The campfire crackles; it’s the only noise in the clearing. Hugo looks back to Varian with an expression of shock, confused and still blushing. Varian freezes, unsure, stuttering, what is he even-

Before he can stop himself, he moves forwards, pressing a light kiss to Hugo’s cheek.

“ _Thank you_.” He whispers, letting go of Hugo’s wrist and stepping back in a fluid movement. The blond in front of him goes stiff, the tightness in his shoulders and spine apparent in the firelight. Varian backs off at that, pressing the canteen into Hugo’s lax hands. He spins in a quick movement, moving towards his own tent before things can get any more awkward-

But as Varian chances a small look back, he can see Hugo’s hand gently touching the place he’d kissed with a reverence, a soft smile taking over the blond’s face. Something fragile and sweet.

And Varian can’t help but smile, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorty short baby chapter today, sorry fellas I was tired lol <3


	5. Day Five: First Meeting/First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In another timeline, they meet just a little earlier.

The party’s been in full swing for hours, and Varian’s never been more miserable.

Rapunzel had disappeared nearly an hour ago, pulling Eugene with her. Dad had vanished as well, pulled away by King Edmund to go speak to some old friends- and wasn’t that strange, that _dad_ of all people had old friends here. This whole thing was strange, to be honest; this weird sense of dancing around people in the hope that they wouldn’t notice he wasn’t one of them- that he was an odd piece in their puzzle. The sense of being off had only persisted once the dancing had begun, the cheery music drifting over the ballroom doing nothing to quell the nerves.

Varian tugs at the collar of his vest, trying to keep his ceremonial sash from slipping off his shoulder. Something about being part of the royal Coronian household- even as a signed in member through his position as the royal engineer- made these parties even worse than usual. Something about the closeness to Rapunzel, especially, draws people to Varian like moths to flame… before Varian’s sour mood sends them running in the opposite direction.

The ballroom glitters with the glow of the firelight, torches and chandeliers shining brightly. The light bounces from the perfectly polished marble floors onto the vast array of paintings and tapestries adorning the ballroom. Varian skuttles away as people pass by, hiding behind a stone pillar as they walk by. He hears the sound of polite laughter drifting over the buzz of the crowd, the music only just audible to Varian from all the way across the room.

He sighs, pressing his back against the stone. By the Sun, these parties were always so awkward for him- the alchemist can’t help but feel like an imposter, hidden within the crowds of _real_ nobility. He peeks out, scanning the crowd for the sight of Rapunzel, or Eugene, or even dad; the swaths of people all blur together into a fuzz of petticoats and perfectly pressed suits, impossible to differentiate from once another.

But- _wait_ -

There.

Varian can’t help but notice a shock of green flit between the powdered wigs and black suits, the colour stark against the tasteful crushed velvet and puffy skirts. Varian arches a brow as the tail of a green jacket disappears into the crowd. Varian squints, pushing off the stone pillar with a clumsy motion. He weaves through the crowd, sticking to the outside of the throng as he moves- Varian isn’t sure why exactly he feels drawn to the man in green, but something about the way he struts through the crowd like he was born for it pushes the alchemist forwards. The fact that the blond looks to be the same age as Varian himself is a plus; there’s never many people under twenty invited to these functions, and to see another teenager around at all is novel enough.

Varian pauses for a second as the man in green disappears. He sighs, slinking back to closer to the wall, despondent at losing a chance at talking to someone that hopefully wasn’t so far up their own ass they’d never seen daylight. He leans up against the wall once more, content to ignore and be ignored once again, though a little more upset.

“I feel like it’s considered rude to stalk someone through a crowd without a purpose.”

“What?” Varian asks, ready to tell off the newcomer. He pauses, however, when he catches sight of a familiar green jacket. It seems the blond had found him, instead of the other way around.

“I’m asking if you want to dance.” The taller boy says with a smile, holding out a hand. Varian arches a brow, but he knows the etiquette; it’s rude to refuse, and to be honest the man in green _is_ easy on the eyes, so...

“Sure, what the hell.” Varian shrugs, taking the blond’s hand. He smiles, leading Varian to the dancefloor with a firm grip, dipping into a bow before the next song starts up. They stand a respectable distance from each other, Varian’s hands drifting up. The blond sets a polite hand on his waist, the other holding Varian’s up by their shoulders; Varian’s free hand settles on his partner’s opposite shoulder as the soft beat of a waltz starts to flow through the ballroom.

“So, do I get a name?” Varian says as they slowly work their way around a perfect box-step, their feet moving in tandem; he’s had years of practice being led around by Rapunzel, thankfully, so at least Varian knows the very basics of dancing down.

“You know, you’re supposed to offer your name first,” The blond smirks, and _oh_ , _it’s a good look on him_ , “It’s only polite.”

Varian pulls a face as he’s spun around in time to the music, his longer coat flaring out behind him. “Varian.” He finally says, settling back into the position they were in before. The music swells slightly, getting more intricate as time passes. The blond smiles at the name, a spark flitting though his gaze.

“Hugo.” He replies with that same grin. “Now, tell me _Varian-_ ” And oh, does his name sound nice said like that, “-What’s a cute thing like you doing at a boring party like this?”

Varian can’t help it, he laughs. “It wasn’t by choice,” He snickers as he’s twirled again. “I’ve never been one for _parties like this_.”

“Well, what do you know,” Hugo snickers, “That makes two of us.”

Hugo drops Varian’s hand to join the grip on Varian’s waist, smoothly lifting him up into a spin. Varian braced himself on Hugo’s shoulders, settling back down onto the ground with a small _oomp_ as his feet hit the marble floor. The music around them tapers off as the song dips, the two of them stepping back from each other to a more respectable distance.

“Did you maybe want to-” Varian starts, just as Hugo says “Maybe we can-”

They both cut off, Varian feels his face light up a bright red.

“Wanna ditch with me?” Hugo finally says, scratching at his face in a nervous titch. “Go somewhere more fun?”

Varian pauses at that, biting his lip. He does, more than he should, but he should stay here for Rapunzel, for Eugene, even for dad. It wasn’t right for him to bail out just because the party was terrible; the others expected him to stay. It wouldn’t be proper, especially, to ditch out with a mysterious stranger he’d only just met…

“Yeah.” Varian says, already waving Hugo towards the door, “ _Yes_ , gods, let’s get out of here.”

****

They talk for hours.

To Varian, it feels like mere minutes, but the moon draws higher in the sky over the course of what can only be half the night. Hugo’s… _funny_ , he’s funny, and smart, and _scarily_ witty in a way that makes Varian laugh like he never has before. They spend the time wandering the gardens together, arm in arm, and it feels like he’s flying- every time Hugo looks at him a little too long Varian feels his heart race a little faster.

Somewhere late in the evening they wind up deep in the garden, watching the moonlight play off a nearby pond. Somewhere along the line they’d ditched the stuffy coats and undone the tight waistcoats, leaving them in the dark of the night. The evening’s calm, a starry sky high above them with the moon a perfect circle of marble in the center. It’s quiet out, the gardens abandoned in favour of the party inside, though Varian couldn’t be happier leaving it behind. Varian basks in the calm, sitting on a stone bench and watching the small ripples on the water’s surface.

But something still bothers him.

“Why have I never seen you around before?” He finally asks Hugo, who had been walking near the edge for a good stone to try to skip across the still water. Hugo pauses at the question, but keeps walking, eyes trained on the ground.

“Guess we kept missing each other.” Hugo shrugs. He dips at the waist to scoop up a stone, bouncing it in his hand to test the weight before tossing it back into the mud. Varian wracks his brain, thinking hard.

“No, Rapunzel would have introduced us.” Varian bites at his lip in thought. “She did with all the other guests at some point, but not you.” Hugo’s shoulders go stiff; Varian feels something like suspicion rear up in him. Why would Hugo be so tense about his place among the elites if not-

_Oh._

“You weren’t supposed to be there, were you.” Varian says, a flat tone taking over. “You snuck in.”

“Mmmmmmmaybe.” Hugo says, just as flat. “What, you going to go get your big sister to chase away the common rabble?”

Varian laughs at that, shrugging. He leans back on the bench, tipping his head up to look at the moon. “Nah,” He grins, “I’d be a hypocrite if I did that. Seeing as I was born _common rabble_ too.”

Hugo’s laughter is like music. He bends to pick up another stone, not looking at Varian and instead turning around to face the water. “I guess we have that to bond over, then.” Hugo muses, reeling his arm back for a split second before letting the stone fly. It bounces perfectly along the surface of the water, nearly making it to the other side of the pond. As it finally slows and sinks into the water, Hugo turns to look Varian in the eye.

“I wasn’t there for the party.” He said, and his eyes glint with promise in the moonlight. “Though I won’t get caught, so what’s the harm, really?”

Varian arches a brow, leaning forwards. “Are you saying you _didn’t_ come here to spend the evening with little ol’ me?” He says in a dramatized voice, “But I thought I was _special_ , Hugo!”

“You are.”

Oh. Oh Hugo sounds _serious_ when he says that, when he looks at Varian like he’s something priceless. Something in Varian’s chest flutters as Hugo draws closer, sitting down on the bench and quickly taking one of Varian’s hands.

“You _are_.” Hugo repeats, “I was here to do a job, but then I found you and- don’t you feel this thing between us?”

“I… I mean, of course I do.” Varian says, “But-”

“ _Varian_!”

  
The call’s far in the distance, coming from the castle.

“Rapunzel.” Varian groans, ignoring as Hugo goes pale. “Just on time to butt into my business.”

Rapunzel’s voice calls again, slightly louder. Varian’s about to turn to her and drag himself back to the castle when Hugo’s hand tightens on his.

“Run away with me.” Hugo breathes. His face drops into a wince the second he says it, flinching back and letting go of Varian like he’d burned him. “Sorry, gods, no idea where that came from, we only just met-”

Varian… _wants to_. More than he ever thinks he would have, but this tug towards Hugo, this dashing rogue who just kicked down the door to his life and has already made a space for himself, it’s… undeniable.

“I can’t.” Varian stutters, choking on the words. Hugo flushes, even as Varian keeps talking. “I want to, but I _can’t_. My father, my friends-”

“For a few days, then.” Hugo asks, and the earnest expression in those eyes…

“Where would we go?” Varian asks, cutting him off. Hugo blinks rapidly, trying to comprehend the question. Varian grabs his hand this time, holding it tight between his own. “ _Where would we go_?” He asks again. “There’s a big world out there.”

“Anywhere you want.” Hugo says it quickly, like he can’t wait to get the words out. “Away from the parties, the nobles-”

“The fakes, the lies-” Varian’s bouncing in his seat, the idea sounding more tempting as the seconds tick by.

“The responsibilities-” Hugo’s still going when Varian presses forwards to kiss him. Their lips meet in a sparking fire, firm and desperate as Rapunzel’s steadily panicking voice drifts over the wind.

“Run away with me?” Hugo asks again when they separate for air. “I don’t know- it’s only been half a day but…”

Varian kisses him again. They melt into it, passionate under the light of the moon. When they split, Varian stands from the bench, pulling Hugo with him. The blond looks utterly besotted- Varian knows he can’t be much better, kiss drunk and full of bad ideas.

“Let’s go.” Varian grins, and Hugo smiles at him like he’s hung the moon in the sky.

When they run together, Varian just misses the sound of armoured guards searching the grounds. How Rapunzel’s voice pitches higher and higher in panic, calling for her brother in the wake of one of the greatest heists in Coronian history, pulled off by an intruder at the party. The subtle clinking of a trio of crowns in Hugo’s satchel, so far ignored. The sudden outcry upon the royal family realizing that not _only_ had they been robbed, but that their alchemist had been whisked away from under their noses by that same thief.

And Hugo, looking at the real treasure in front of him, smiles wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyy I had fun with this one, just a little _what if_ scenario!!


	6. Day Six: Flirting/Teasing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's fair in love and war.

“You’re the love of my life.”

“I know, you’re not very subtle.”

There’s a pause, before Varian looks up from his book with an arched brow, waiting for Hugo to respond. Hugo, sitting on the other end of the couch, smiles with a sense of forced innocence. His feet twitch from their place on Varian’s lap; the smile grows more strained.

“What’s your angle?” Varian asks, poking his nose back into his book. “Or, better question, what did you break?”

“I’m heartbroken that you assume that of me! Goggles, please, how could you say that about me?”

“ _Hugo_.”

“I want to mess with Rider.”

Varian looks back up, noting the mischievous grin starting to split Hugo’s face. “Eugene?” He asks, “Why?”

“Haven’t you seen him lately?” Hugo snickers, “Every time I get within three feet of you, he looks ready to burst a blood vessel.”

Varian pauses to think, chewing on his lip. “Really?” He finally says, closing his book and tossing it onto a nearby table. “I didn’t notice…”

And he hadn’t, not really. It had only been a few months since they’d come back from the library, hand in hand and ready to face the world together. Rapunzel had taken it well, but Eugene… well admittedly Eugene hadn’t taken the news of Varian dating an _ex-associate_ of his with grace. The older man had _very loudly_ demanded to know why Varian had to choose _that one_ , as opposed to some nice, wholesome noble, but Varian hadn’t taken the bait. _Because this one’s mine_ , he’d said to the man, and that had supposedly been the end of it.

Supposedly.

“Has he been saying things to you?” Varian asks, his tone dropping. “If he’s said something that wasn’t okay I can-”

“No, no, nothing like that, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo’s hands fly up in a placating manner. “I just like to watch him get twitchy.”

“Is that why you were hanging off of me after dinner last night?” Varian asks with a huff, thinking back to the sudden PDA of the night before. While Hugo was always one for contact, it had been excessive.

“Testing the hypothesis.” Hugo nods, looking sage. Varian’s fully laughing now, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. He can see Hugo bite his lip to keep from laughing too, but the tears in his eyes make the room swirl.

“And-” The giggles grow uncontrollable. “And what were the results? Did you write them down? Make me a chart and present your findings.”

“The results were very promising.” Hugo finally breaks, his own laughs joining Varian. The blond stretches, moving his feet so he can lean closer to his boyfriend. Varian lets Hugo enter his space, leaning up for a chaste kiss. “And he really did pull some _amazingly_ offended faces when I touched your ass-”

“ _Okay, that’s enough of that_!” Varian near screams, shoving Hugo’s pouting face away from him. “No, no more, you ruined it.”

“But if I asked-”

“What’s in it for me?”

Hugo pauses, thinking. “I’ll proclaim my eternal love for you?” He offers, to which Varian rolls his eyes.

“You already do that daily.”

“What about taking the trash panda for a walk?”

“Ruddiger hates you.”

Hugo grits his teeth, jaw tensing. Varian perks, giggling again as Hugo spits out the next words. The blond knows _exactly_ what will get Varian to agree, much as it’s going to cost him.

“What if I cleaned the beakers for the next week?”

“Make it two.” Varian’s crying with laughter again, refusing to look at his devastated boyfriend lest he break entirely.

“One and a half.”

Varian wipes at his eyes, nodding. “Deal,” He gasps between laugh, forcing the words out. “Deal, deal.”

Hugo leans forwards with a groan, using Varian’s lap as a pillow. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetcheeks,” the blond moans dramatically. “But I guess that’s why I love you.”

“Damn straight.” Varian snickers, leaning down to press a kiss to Hugo’s head. The blond’s face lights up at the contact, a small blush scattering across pale cheeks. Varian does it again, just to see that smile grow.

“Now, how are we going to play this?”

****

They start small.

_Testing the waters,_ as Hugo had called it. Small things here and there, nothing really unusual for the two of them, to be honest. A glance here, a touch there, a kiss that lasted just a _smidge_ too long. Varian kept half an eye on Eugene, noting with delight that Hugo _was_ , in fact, right. The older man’s face was constantly contorted into either disgust or rage every time Varian and Hugo got a little too close to each other, the man glaring at Hugo consistently when he thought Varian wasn’t looking.

Hypothesis confirmed, they’d taken it up a notch.

“You’re my everything,” Varian coos from his spot half-on-half-off of Hugo’s lap. “I love you more than life itself.”

His boyfriend bites his lip to keep from laughing, reaching up to cup Varian’s face with both his hands. “You’re my sun and moon,” Hugo plays up the last few words with a kiss to Varian’s nose, nearly bursting out laughing when it scrunches.

From the corner of his eye, Varian can see Eugene’s hands twitch.

They’re in the library, Varian, Hugo, Eugene, and Rapunzel. The evil of the week had crawled out from under whatever rock it had been living beneath, and Rapunzel had asked for Varian’s help to try and stop it- but that didn’t stop the alchemist from seizing the chance to mess with his big brother. Multitasking was something he prides himself on, of course.

Varian and Hugo snuggle close on an ornate chaise together, nearly plastered together in a way that makes Rapunzel squeal and Eugene _rage_.

“Wanna tone down the PDA, goggles?” He grumps, flipping though a book roughly. “Go be gross somewhere else, if you’re not going to help-”

“Oh, Eugene.” Rapunzel chastises from her perch on a nearby chair. “Just let them have their fun, they’re not hurting anyone.”

“ _They’re hurting my soul_.” Varian hears Eugene grumble to himself, and has to push a giggle into Hugo’s shoulder. The blond isn’t much better- and Hugo’s always been one to push the limits. Varian feels hands slip down from his face and onto his hips; the grip is still chaste, but solid as Hugo pulls him close and hooks his chin over Varian’s head.

“You’re the light of my life,” Hugo proclaims, “My heart, my _soul-_ ”

“I’ve loved you since the moment we met!” Varian pumps his words with drama, flinging his arms around Hugo’s shoulders and holding tight. “Since I laid eyes on you-”

“You’re my everything.” Hugo… sounds a little more serious this time. Varian pauses, looking into somber, green eyes. “I owe you so much more than I can ever give.”

  
“I love you.” Varian says into Hugo’s shoulder, ignoring how Eugene makes a noise like an angry cat. “So much.”

“I love you too,” Hugo murmurs. Varian feels a kiss pressed into the top of his head, sighing at the contact. Something in him warms; even if they’re just playing up the schmoopy garbage to annoy Eugene, it’s still nice to hear affirmations of love from his boyfriend.

“ _Okay, that’s it_!” Eugene shouts, slamming his book down. It startles everyone else in the room, all of them looking at the grumpy man. “Goggles, glasses, with me, c’mon.” He points an accusatory finger at the two on the couch before roughly pushing back from the table. He stalks deeper into the library, not looking back to see if they follow. Varian chances a glance towards Rapunzel, who only shrugs with a _what can you do_ expression on her face.

Varian sighs and gets up as well, holding out a hand to help Hugo up. “I think we might have pushed too far.” He mutters, gripping tightly to Hugo’s hand.

“Nah,” Hugo grins, an easy, simple thing. “He’s just being a sourpuss.”

Varian can’t help but snicker again, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s not going to matter when he _stabs you_.”

“I will take my stabbing with grace if it means I get to stay with you.” Hugo simpers, his face twisted in an over-the-top pout. The shorter boy shoves him away with a laugh, turning down the row of shelves he’d seen Eugene disappear into.

The man stands there, arms crossed, tapping his foot with a put-upon expression. Varian’s hand goes a little tight as it grips Hugo’s, just enough to give away his stress at the sight of how aggravated Eugene is. There’s an awkward silence for at least half a minute, the older man glaring at the two alchemists, who remain quiet.

“Why are we here, exactly?” Hugo finally cracks the silence in half. Varian steps on his foot with a glare, shaking his head as Eugene’s face grows darker.

“I need another book.” The man grumbles, “And I don’t trust you not to be weird while alone with Rapunzel.”

“Eugene it’s not like that,” Varian sighs, “We’re just mess-”

“Book. Please.” Eugene grunts, gesturing to a tall ladder on rolling wheels. It’s closest to Varian, so the youngest of the three rolls his eyes and drops Hugo’s hand, climbing up the ladder with a grumble that’s sounds suspiciously like _stupid old man_ before he’s too far up to be heard anymore.

And that’s when Eugene strikes.

“Hands off of goggles, capiche?” The man jabs a finger into Hugo’s chest. “I know he likes you for now, but _hands. Off._ ”

“Or what?” Hugo challenges, delighting in how Eugene turns a wonderful shade of purple. “We both know you can’t do shit while Varian’s-”

A sudden shriek cuts them off. Both their heads snap upwards just in time to watch Varian’s foot slip off the rung of the ladder, the boy dropping like a stone. Hugo’s got his arms out before he can think, lunging forwards-

A body slams into his own-

Eugene and Hugo, having slammed into each other when both had tried for a catch, tumble to the floor in a mess of limbs and shouted curses. Hugo feels a sudden pain flair up his side-

Varian’s cry cuts off with a strangled noise as he falls directly on top of the two men tangled together on the floor. Hugo and Eugene shout as Varian’s weight hits them, both of them losing any sort of air they might have had in their lungs. The three lie together on the floor, groaning at the various aches and pains, breathing heavily. Varian’s the first to move, rolling off the pile with a small wince. Hugo’s up like a shot, borderline scrambling towards his boyfriend with barely contained worry.

  
“Shit- you good, goggles?” He stumbles over the words just like he stumbles over Eugene’s legs, pale hands flying up to cup Varian’s face. Varian nods quickly, his own hands reaching for Hugo’s shoulders.

  
“Fine, fine, I’m okay,” Varian says quickly, “Are you-”

“I’m good,” Hugo sighs, “By the Maker, that was a hell of a drop, are you sure…?”

A sudden groan from the floor has both boys looking towards Eugene, the man still lying prone on the hardwood.

“I’m okay too,” The man says, not looking up from where his face is pressed into the floorboards. “Thanks for asking.”

Varian has the heart to look sheepish, though Hugo just glares. Eugene doesn’t seem to want to move, even when Varian slinks closer to offer an olive branch in the form of a hand to help him up.

“C’mon, Eugene.” Varian says, “We’ll stop, if it’s really a big enough deal-”

Hugo makes an offended noise. Varian shoots him a look. Eugene grumbles, shaking his head.

“Why, of all the eligible bachelors, did you pick _that one_?” He says, less asking Varian and more bemoaning the universe as a whole. Varian bites his lip to keep from laughing, offering a pat of consolation to Eugene’s shoulder.

“Because I _like_ that one.” Varian wheedles, “Just like Rapunzel likes you.”

Eugene pauses. He finally turns his head, making a noise that sounds like a drawn out, whiney, _ehhhhhhhhhhhh_ noise. Varian’s shoulders hitch in a laugh, the alchemist biting his knuckle. “That’s a low blow, kid.” The man grumbles, glaring at the boy without much fire.

“But?” Oh, Varian’s enjoying this.

“But I _guess_ I can leave you and glasses alone- _if_ you promise to tone down the gross lovey stuff.”

“That can be arranged-” Varian agrees, just as Hugo butts in with a “I promise nothing.”

Varian sighs, but smiles as Eugene takes his hand. A look at Hugo has the blond grabbing Eugene’s other arm, the two alchemists helping the older man to his feet.

“You’re both heathens.” Eugene grumbles, fixing his hair with the pout. “And I hate you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Hugo mutters. “And your hair’s thinning.”

“Hi guys!” Rapunzel’s head pokes around the corner, a bright smile taking over. All of their spines go ramrod straight, the three of them snapping to attention. “Stop your lollygagging, we can’t keep waiting around!”

When she disappears around the corner, they all slump with a sigh. “Can we put a pin in this?” Varian asks, following the princess. “You two can hate each other _after_ the kingdom’s safe.”

When he disappears around the corner, the two men glare at each other once more.

“Truce?” Eugene asks through grit teeth.

“For now.” Hugo replies, tense as a bowstring.

For now would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh I had fun with this one! Today was inspired by [my good friend Jigg](https://www.instagram.com/jjgg_art/) who did a lot of absolutely hilarious drawings of Protective-Big-Brother-Eugene a month or so ago! I've always wanted to write something with that concept after she posted it, and bless I finally got my chance!! If you're not following her insta GO DO THAT YOU FOOL <3


	7. Day Seven: Free Day (Penny Dreadful)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mansion was supposed to be abandoned, Hugo knows. 
> 
> He's wrong.

This is a terrible fucking idea.

Hugo's had a lot of terrible ideas- too many to count, really- but there’s something almost _special_ about this one.

With an angry grunt the blond pushes his way through the rough foliage of the overgrown patch of forest he finds himself in. It’s a scraggly, rough chunk of terrain; he’s already eaten shit enough times to really be ready to call it quits… but Donella would _ream_ him if he came back empty handed _again_. The scowl set into his face only deepens, pale skin drawing tighter and tighter around his mouth as he stubs his _stupid_ toe on another _stupid_ rock, and- oh, thank the Maker he can see light.

The moon’s high in the sky, full and round like an uncracked egg. The forest is bathed in a blue light, so Hugo spots the warm orange glow of his target with almost hilarious ease. Really, if these stupid magical _fucks_ want to hide so damn badly, they should really try harder-

Hugo swears loudly as he trips over a gnarled root sticking up from the musty earth.

“ _Fucks-sake_ ,” He hisses, face down in the damp soil. He can feel the grit of dirt between his teeth- _disgusting_ \- and hastily shoves his glasses up onto his face with a growl. This artifact Donella wants had better be worth it; Hugo deserves a vacation after walking out here for the last _three days_. It had been that long since the nearest town, at least, where he’d looked at the path leading out of the small village, turned ninety degrees away, and started walking into the thick brush. Donella had told him that what she wanted was buried deep in the Coronian forests, in one of the supposed magician’s little hideaways.

As he draws closer, he can feel a buzzing in the air, almost like electricity- but as Hugo draws near enough to see his prey, he can’t help but grin. Classic, stupid assholes; even out in the middle of the woods someone was _bound_ to eventually find their hideout; no wonder they’d been so easy for Donella to track. Hugo scoffs as he hunkers down into a bush, peeking out into the clearing beyond with a calculating glare.

Before him lies a large mansion, old and _creepy as all hell_ , but well maintained. It isn’t a large footprint- but it’s _tall_ , with a high vaulted roof and thin but long windows capped in perfect arches. The old Victorian mansion has a large, wooden porch that wraps around, jutting out like a great creeping maw near the front door- ready to devour anything that got too close. The faded paint was once a cheery blue, from the looks of it, but the building has long since faded to a depressing grey. The wood was obviously chipping away with the beats of time, ivy and other plants slowly climbing upwards like creeping hands. 

Hugo shudders- he doesn’t exactly believe in ghosts, but that place looks _haunted as fuck_.

But it’s also the place he needs to be. Hugo bites the inside of his cheek, looking out over the unkept lawn and gnarled gardens, seeing only one of the windows has light coming from it. It’s around the back of the house- and had been the glow that had led Hugo to the building in the first place. A small flickering shine of a single candle, probably in a side room or hallway. That meant that whoever was inside was long asleep- which is perfect for Hugo’s purposes. 

Donella had been brief with her descriptions of the manor and of Hugo’s objective. His mentor wasn’t one to mince words; _get in, get the artifact, get out_ she’d told him. Easy grab, in and out, the usual bullshit.

Hugo hunkers down a little deeper into the bush he’s hiding in. The front door’s out- if anything’s going to be rigged it’s the doors- but Hugo can see one or two sneaky-bastard-sized windows scattered around the first floor. Donella had said that the magician’s leader, a weaselly little weirdo, used this place to guard their most priceless artifacts and treasures… such a _shame_ , then, that they’d forgotten rumors could spread from even the tightest of lips with enough persuasion. 

A pity, but their loss is his gain- and Donella’s victory. 

Hugo slowly leaves the safety of his hiding place, creeping towards the manor with practiced footsteps; they’re so light they would barely snap a blade of grass. As he draws closer, the mansion seems to rise like a monolith, great and imposing as its silhouette blots out the moon. Hugo shudders again, huddling close in the deep shadow caused by the building. He creeps close to one of the windows, a smaller one innocently embedded in the side of the house. Hugo drops his satchel in the dirt, idly hearing it _thump_. He wraps spindly fingers under the window, giving it a testing tug upwards- and to Hugo’s infinite delight it slides up and open, revealing the curtains drawn shut beyond. The blond has to laugh, _how stupid were these people_ , idly poking a testing hand through the window to split the faded red curtains aside. Inside he can see what looks like a sitting room of some kind, a large space full of chairs and shelves upon shelves of books and assorted trinkets.

_Jackpot_.

With the quiet movements of a trained thief he slips into the room, his boots landing soundlessly on the carpet. The room’s dark, nearly pitch black in the gloom of the late evening. He’s definitely in a sitting room of some kind, he can see an assortment of trinkets and artifacts -staffs, jewelry, crowns, idols, the room was a literal treasure trove. Hugo’s green eyes widen in delight at the sight of them all, the blond reaching backwards towards the window to grab his bag.

But his hand never makes it. 

As if touching glass, his hand stops short on the threshold of the window. It’s like touching a perfectly invisible object, something flat and crackling with energy. Hugo’s mouth goes dry- Donella hadn’t told him about any sort of wards or spells protecting the manor, but obviously they have some kind of crazy magic bullshit in place. Hugo smacks his hand against the force a few more times, growing more and more desperate as the seconds tick by. 

“ _Shit_ ,” He mutters with each hit, the small _thumps_ reverberating around the quiet room, “Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit-”

By the Maker- he’s fucked. Hugo can feel something like panic claw up in throat from his chest- he’s stuck, that much is obvious, trapped in this shitty, haunted mansion, for Maker knows how long-

Footsteps.

Hugo dives behind a chaise before he can think about it, the purple fabric of it seeming almost black in the night lighting. Hugo can see, through the crack at the bottom of the door across the room, a moving light. The footsteps grow louder- the hallway must have wooden floors- and the light turns into a proper beam, starting on the left side of the door. Someone must be walking by, probably with a candle or some kind of light, Hugo realizes. He hunkers down just the little more in his hiding place, holding his breath as the beam of light passes, moving from one side of the door to the other, the footsteps never faltering as the person walks by with even measure.

Finally, after an agonizing few seconds, the person passes. The footsteps fade away, and the light grows dimmer and dimmer before vanishing entirely. Hugo lets out the breath he’d been holding- his lungs burn. He begins to slouch a bit, pressing his back a little more against the chaise as he breathes. 

“Okay, stupid.” He mutters into the empty room. “What are we going to do now?” 

The open window stares back at him, _mocking him_ , a tempting wrong answer to his problems. The cool summer air blows in from the open window, fluttering the curtains in a fun little _fuck you_ to Hugo’s predicament- by the Maker he’d really fumbled this, and he’d only gone into one room.

Donella’s going to _kill him_.

  
Okay. Okay no, no more panicking, he needs a _plan_. Obviously escaping out the window isn’t happening, and there’s _someone_ awake running around, so Hugo has the idea that he had to be at least a little quiet about how he approaches this. He sneaks closer to the door, pressing an ear against the ornate, carved wood. He can’t hear anything from the other side, so with a cautious hand he twists the brass doorknob a half inch at a time.

The door opens soundlessly- Hugo peeks out into the abandoned hallway with a critical eye. He cracked the door a little more, moving out into the hall. It’s long, spanning what must be the length of the mansion, covered in old portraits that seem to stare into Hugo’s soul.

“Fucking… wonderful.” He mutters, moving towards where he knows the front of the house is. If the windows are warded, there’s a chance the door may not be; the people living here have got to have a way in and out, right? There’s someone still in here, so the house can’t be under total lockdown… right?

The hallway lets out into a large entrance hall, a three-story tall grand room of solid oak pillars and marble floors. The walls here are covered in banners and torches, dimly lit in the late evening but bright enough that Hugo can see a large crest set into the floor. He knows it’s the crest of the weird magic folk he’s out to rob- the ones who currently had locked him in their house of horrors. He can’t really describe it, it’s a strange, rounded shape that, if anything, Hugo would say looks like a pissed off jellyfish.

He makes his way across the floor, sticking close to the edge of the room. Hugo winces when his boots make the tiniest footsteps, a small _padding_ noise that rings in his ears. When he makes it to the door, he tests the handle, tapping its curved brass surface.

Locked.

Of _fucking_ course.

Hugo scoffs, backing away. _Fucks sake_ , what’s he supposed to do now? Don’s going to murder him, if he doesn’t starve to death in this house of horrors first. Hugo spins on his heel, intending to go back to the original room, when, just out of the corner of his eye, he sees it.

A pair of blue eyes blink back at him from the shadows of the upper floor, peeking through the rungs of the bannister.

As soon as Hugo makes eye contact the person blinks and backs away, those sapphires disappearing into the shadows. Hugo hears frantic footsteps running along what must be more hardwood upstairs, clumsy and rushed as the person runs away.

“ _Hey!_ ” Hugo barks, any sense of stealth long lost. He’s been caught- no more pussyfooting around. He bolts up the stairs to his left, taking them two at a time with ease. “ _HEY!”_

The person doesn’t stop- Hugo catches sight of pale skin and black hair before they round a corner. If Hugo’s right, it should be a dead end at the end of that hallway. He takes the turn fast, slipping on the maroon carpet runner and nearly eating shit but just managing to get his feet under him. Hugo looks up with a scowl, intent on catching the fucker and demanding to be _let out-_

And comes face to face with a wall.

Shocked, he looks around. All there is a long hallway and a set of windows, no doors, no exits- and yet the person is just _gone_ , vanished into thin air like a ghost. A chill runs up Hugo’s spine at that, the blond clenching his hands. People, in his experience, don’t just disappear.

“What the _fuck_?” He mutters to himself, looking quizzically at the taxidermized heads and paintings hanging on the walls. They stare right back at him as he huffs for breath. “What the actual fuck, I’m losing my marbles!”

He’d seen someone, Hugo’s sure of it. Blue eyes, black hair- they’d _been here_. But now they weren’t. Hugo scowls, kicking at a decorative stand with a grunt. The vase on top of it rattles ominously, but stays upright. The blond shakes his head, moving back into the mansion. There _has_ to be a way out of this shitty house, and he’s going to find it if it kills him.

He doesn’t find it.

Hugo spends the rest of the night searching the house. Every window, every door, every _crack in the bloody wall_ \- and all of it turns up null for an escape route. The house is sealed tighter than a chestnut, and Hugo’s ready to tear his hair out. Eventually he drags himself back to the room he’d entered the house though, the window still wide open as an extra kick to the balls-

Hugo sighs.

He sinks down onto one of the couches, the exhaustion of an all-night panic attack settling deep into his bones. He’d torn through the mansion like a bat out of hell for so long, his body was demanding rest. The blond had retreated back to the main room in defeat, scooping up a fire poker as an impromptu weapon as his alchemy supplies was in his bag, outside. Hugo pushes his glasses up to the top of his head with a sigh, rubbing at burning eyes with a rough touch.

“ _Shit_.” He whispers into the quiet of the room. “ _Shit, shit, shit_.”

The house doesn’t answer. After the chase, Hugo had yet to see another living thing in the house, not even an insect. The person from before had vanished without a trace, but Hugo couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. When he turned, glaring into the dark corners of whatever room he was in at the time, there was never anyone there. It gives him the creeps; the longer he stays in the house, the shorter his patience becomes.

He lies down on the couch, allowing himself to sink into the plush cushions with a sigh. His fire poker sinks a little in his grip, the tip tapping the floorboards as Hugo slouches lower and lower. The claws of sleep sink deep into him, tugging him down into his dreams before he can stop it.

As the sun crests over the horizon, Hugo nods off into a restless sleep.

****

When he wakes up, it’s to the smell of something cooked.

Hugo cracks a groggy eye open, scanning the room around him. It’s still empty of people, left exactly the way it was when he went to sleep- not a mote of dust out of place save for one thing. When Hugo looks directly in front of him, to a small, wooden coffee table at current face height, he can see a small plate, filled with a few sunny-side-up eggs and two slices of toast with jam. It smells delicious- Hugo’s used to road rations and tough grit from his time with Donella, it’s unusual for him to get to eat _actual food_ \- and from the waft of steam coming from the eggs, they’re fresh.

Hugo doesn’t trust it for a second.

The sun’s high in the sky; it must be sometime around noon, from the looks of the light outside. He slept longer than he meant to, but seeing as he was stuck in this hell house either way, a little oversleeping wouldn’t kill him. The blond sits up, grabbing his glasses off a side table of carved mahogany. He stares down at the food with suspicion, eyes narrowed.

The eggs sit there, appetizing and warm. Hugo glares a little harder, scooping up a nearby fork that had been left as well and poking at them. The metal weighs heavy in his hand- real silver. Interesting. The eggs don’t reveal any untoward secrets- no poison or half crushed drugs from the looks of it, but Hugo knows better. Donella had taught him well, after all.

With a scowl he stands, leaving the room without touching the food.

The house is just as gloomy in the day as it is during the night. The arching ceilings hover above Hugo like guillotine’s blade, just waiting to fall. The building is a labyrinth of hallways and strange rooms, piled high with strange artifacts and shelves packed with books and other items, all polished to perfection. It’s something he’d noticed, last night, is that the whole house is _spotless_ \- and if anything, that makes it all the creepier. Not a speck of dust has time to settle on anything in the house; if Hugo had to guess it was the person from the night before that kept the mansion as impeccable as it was. There was no one else in the house to do the work, unless there was a different magic other than the bloody forcefield keeping Hugo in at play.

His fire poker is a solid weight in his hand, still the only viable weapon Hugo had found in this freaky house- anything else was either drenched in magic (not something Hugo wanted to toy with _thank you_ ) or not exactly useful.

He finds himself in the great hall again. The massive double doors stand proud as they had before, mocking him with how simple escape seemed to be. With a small glace up to the landing, this time devoid of Hugo’s little _stalker_ , he continues on. If memory serves from his frantic search of the house, there was a main library just off the main hall, past a large door of wrought iron and mahogany.

Hugo shoves at the door; it opens on soundless hinges. The library beyond is nothing short of breathtaking, to be fair. Three stories tall, the massive room filled to the brim with shelves and couches, and _books_ , so many books. Hugo is, at heart, still a man of science and knowledge; if he had the time, Hugo could spend years here.

But for now, he needs to look for a way to get _out_.

A knot forms in his stomach. It’s a hunger pang, he unfortunately knows from experience, but he’d rather pass out than eat something that was potentially drugged. Hugo scowls as he stalks deeper into the library, scanning the shelves. They don’t seem to be in any kind of order, or at least not one Hugo can figure out. The blond turns into an aisle, high shelves on either side to start randomly searching, but stops dead.

On the other side of the aisle, closest to the wall, stands a figure.

It’s the same person as last night, small and thin and _short_ \- almost a head shorter than Hugo, with a mop of long, dark hair with a bright streak of teal through it. The boy’s pale- he looks like he hasn’t stepped outside in years, and those blue eyes Hugo remembers so vividly are framed by dark bruises. The boy wears a simple blue vest and white shirt, with moderately tight navy pants, and, Hugo notices with a start, no shoes. There’s a thick pair of goggles perched on top of the boy’s head, made of leather and brass. He looks about the same age as Hugo, maybe a year younger at the maximum.

The boy bites at a plush lip as he scans the books on the far shelf, tapping a finger against his chin as he reads the titles. His head cocks to the side as he reads, completely unaware of Hugo’s presence.

Perfect.

Hugo is, at heart, a sneaky bastard. His footsteps are quiet as he draws closer to the boy, who remains unaware until the very last second. Just as Hugo lunges for him, the boy turns. The blond gets the image of blue eyes going wide with shock before the hand not holding the fire poker grabs onto the teenager’s arm with a firm grip. The black-haired teen stumbles for a second at the sudden grab, but then finally seems to register Hugo’s presence.

And then he starts to _scream_.

It’s high pitched, near wailing. Hugo can’t help but drop his grip, covering his ears to block it out, the cry rings in his head as it does the previously silent library. The boy takes the chance given to him, trying to push past and run for the exit- but Hugo’s faster. With a quick foot he trips the other teen, the boy landing hard on the floor. His scream cuts off as he hits the floorboards, nearly taking Hugo down with him, but the blond rights himself and manages to get a hold of the boy’s arm again and haul him to his feet.

“You and I,” Hugo grunts as he drags the struggling teen from the shelves, “Are going to have a little _chat_.”

“Let go!” The teen shouts, furious. He yanks at Hugo’s grip on his arm, digging his heels into the wooden floors. “Let go, let go, let GO!”

Hugo grits his teeth, pulling harder and eventually shoving the teen onto one of the ornate, maroon couches. The boy lands with a _thump_ , flailing a bit on the cushions.

“We’ll start simple.” Hugo’s teeth grit as the boy kicks at his legs. “Name.”

“What?” The kid asks, thrown off.

“ _Name_.” Hugo repeats, shoving the fire poker in the kid’s face. Pale skin gets even paler at the sight of the impromptu weapon, the boy cringing back into the pillows of the couch. 

“V-Varian!” He stammers, hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hugo.” The blond grunts back, “Now, _Varian_. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on with this house.”

“I don’t answer to you!” Varian spits, face twisting into a snarl that quickly drops when Hugo brandishes the poker again. “It’s a ward.”

“A ward?” Hugo asks, “Explain.”

“Fuck you-” Another swing of iron. “It’s magic, my master activates it when he leaves for a long time, it’s for protection.”

“Your master?” _Gods_ what kind of weird shit- “Elaborate.”

“It’s his house.” Varian spits, shoving at the fire poker. “Get that out of my face- this all belongs to him.”

“And you?”

“I… work for him.”

Hugo tilts his head, gesturing for Varian to continue. The boy scowls again, but does so.

“He gives me room and board.”

“And that’s it?” Hugo’s heard of weirder, but it’s still _strange_. Varian nods, picking at the gloves on his hands.

“He takes care of me, and in return-”

“And in return you keep his house.” Hugo nods, understanding. “Alright, so you must know how to _let me out,_ right?”

Varian shrugs, biting his lip. Now that Hugo’s stopped with the outward threats, he straightens a little on the couch. “I don’t know.” He says, and Hugo scowls. “I _don’t_.”

“And what happens when _you_ want to go outside?” Hugo grunts, putting his free hand on his hip. This whole thing is _sketch_ \- something’s still weird here, especially in the way Varian shifts at the question.

“It’s dangerous out there.” He mumbles. The teen’s picking at his gloves again; Hugo’s now ninety nine percent sure that’s a nervous habit, but Varian doesn’t seem to be able to stop. “It’s not safe out there, not for me.”

That’s… suspicious. And strange. But also, untimely, not Hugo’s problem.

“So no one can get out?” He finally asks, and Varian shakes his head.

“Not until my master comes back- which should be in about three days.” He says, and Hugo can’t help but groan.

“Fucking _perfect_.” He hisses. Varian flinches at the anger, but Hugo can’t find it within himself to care because- “If your master finds me here, won’t he be upset with you?”

Varian bites at his lip again, but stays firm. “He’ll decide what to do when he gets back. I trust him.” The boy says, pushing up off the couch. Hugo lets him, mind reeling. He’s _stuck here_ with this little whelp, a sitting duck while they wait for the guy Hugo is currently trying to _rob_ to get home. He groans, shoving his glasses up onto his head and rubbing at his closed eyes with a frustrated noise.

When he opens his eyes again, Varian has disappeared.

****

Another day goes by before Hugo sees Varian again.

This time it’s in one of the hallways, the shorter teen balanced precariously on a tall ladder, carefully polishing at the golden frame of one of the paintings. The blond still hasn’t found a way out, he’s starting to dread the idea that there might not _be_ a way out- but then he finds Varian, and at least that comes with the promise of human contact.

“You know,” He says quietly, letting the younger boy hear him without startling him, “If you used vinegar, it would work better.”

“Because of its acidic properties.” Varian says, “Specifically white, distilled vinegar because of its pH level of around 2.5.” A pause. “How do I know that?” 

“What?” Hugo stutters- that’s not a common kind of thing that people just _know_ -

“What?” Varian asks, looking down from the ladder. “Oh. You.” He grumbles. “Come to drag me around again?”

“No- I… okay whatever.” Hugo mutters, “Fuck me for trying to help, I guess.”

Varian laughs. It’s a short burst of a giggle, but it’s… fuck it’s _cute_. Hugo coughs roughly to keep from being suspicious, refusing to look as Varian slides down the ladder. The shorter boy lands with a _thump_ , his bare feet barely making a sound on the hardwood.

“Thank you for the advice.” He says, cocking a hip. Hugo sticks his tongue out, crossing his arms.

“Whatever, goggles.” He mutters, “Work harder, not smarter if that’s your deal.”

Varian looks away again, shrugging. “I have nothing better to do all day.” He says, “And vinegar will eat at the gold finish over time.”

“Oh.” Hugo says, “Fair, gold’s-”

“Soft.” Varian finishes the sentence for him. “And the master likes it kept in perfect condition.”

Ah.

“Right.” Hugo says, “The master who doesn’t let you go outside, and curses his own house.”

“It’s for my own good.” Varian replies, and the way he says it sounds like it’s something that’s been beaten into him over time. Hugo arches a brow, but pauses when Varian turns to walk down the hall with a gesture of his chin.

“You haven’t been eating.” The boy says. “It’s lunch.”

“For all I know you’re out to poison me.” Hugo grunts. Varian backs off a little, shrinking into himself. Hugo can’t help but feel a pulse of guilt- he’s an interpersonal guy, he knows when to tone down the anger.

In theory.

“I’m waiting for the master to come home before doing anything.” Varian says, “He can’t decide if you’re dead before he gets here.”

That’s… a fair point.

“Fine.” Hugo finally says, subdued for now. “Lead the way, goggles.”

Varian does, the two of them walking through the halls in relative silence. Varian’s jumpy, Hugo can see it in the way his whole body shrinks into itself, the slouch of his spine, the way his arms fold in- he’s seen if before, in people who knew better than to try and fight back.

It doesn’t sit right.

Varian leads him down a series of hallways, turning every direction under the sun. He has the layout of the mansion down, it seems, as even when Hugo’s about as turned around as he can get, Varian never breaks stride. The wooden panels and thick joists eventually turn to stone walls and floors, Hugo noting as the temperature drops by about ten degrees.

Varian eventually ducks into a room behind a thin, wooden door. It lacks the usual decoration of the upstairs of the house, but as Hugo enters, he sees a large, stocked kitchen. Varian gestures for the blond to sit; he does, plopping onto a stool. There’s a large island in the very center of the room, where Hugo now sits, the walls all taken up by either large fireplaces or cupboards. Varian putters around like he knows the kitchen like the back of his hand- which, to be honest, he probably does.

Hugo sinks into his chair as Varian wanders over to a nearby fireplace, one of six, and the only one lit, and inspects the cooking pot overtop it. Hugo watches as he takes the lid off, thinking to himself as a waft of steam flies up into the air. Hugo’s struck by the smell- it smells _delicious,_ like onions and potatoes and something a little more savory. Varian tuts to himself, grabbing a small bag and taking a pinch of salt from it. He measures it for another second before tossing it in. He stirs the soup, for what else could it be, a few more times before replacing the lid.

“Should be ready soon.” He murmurs to himself, “Not _quite_ yet.”

Oh, goodie, he talks to himself.

Hugo slouches, putting his elbows on the wooden, butcher block surface of the island. “So.” He says into the silence of the kitchen. Varian’s spine tenses just a little, but he shifts enough that Hugo feels okay to proceed. “What the fuck.”

Varian snorts at the bluntness. Hugo smiles a little, he can’t help it. Varian plucks a loaf of bread from one of the boxes, along with a knife, and sets away to quietly slicing the bread in thick chunks.

“What are we _what-the-fucking_?” He asks. “Because no, I can’t let you out of here.”

“How about the house, then.” Hugo tries. Even if he can’t get out, it would be good to know as much as he can. Varian purses his lips, but nods.

“It’s my master’s.” He reiterates. “His family has had it for generations. The wards only respond to him- unless it’s broken.”

“So you can break them?”

“I never said that. He’d know if you did.”

“That’s useless to me.”

“I know, that’s what makes it hilarious.”

Hugo groans, propping his chin on a hand Varian snickers to himself, finishing cutting the bread.

“What about you, then?” Hugo asks. Not that he _cares_ of course, but Varian is… well he’s cute. And smart, if not a little batshit bonkers. “What’s the deal?”

Varian goes a little pale. _Suspicious_ , Hugo’s mind screams, _suspicious as hell_ -

“I. Okay.” Varian sighs. He turns to the pot again, removing the lid and stirring it. That smell wafts through the air again. Varian snags two bowls, deftly scooping the soup into two heaping portions. He turns back, placing the soup in front of Hugo before sitting across from him. “I’ll tell you,” Varian says, “But you have to promise to listen to me all the way through.”

“Deal.” Hugo shrugs, even as the curiosity eats at him. There’s a _story here_ , it seems. Hugo stirs his food idly, taking a bite. _Oh_ , by the Maker, that’s good stuff right there.

“I don’t have any memories.” Varian states blankly, and Hugo chokes on his food. He coughs roughly, hacking into the table as Varian chokes on a laugh. “Are you okay?!” He giggles, pushing a glass of water towards the blond. Hugo, for all he can, keeps coughing into his fist, offering a thumbs up.

“That’s just not what I was-” A pause, to choke on air again, “Not what I was expecting.” He snatches the water and downs it, finally getting himself under control. “ _Please_ continue.”

Varian bites his lip to keep from laughing, but nods. “So. No memories.” He says. “About three months ago, the master found me, half dead, out in a winter storm.”

Hugo nods, it’s easy enough to know that something as life threatening as freezing to death can cause amnesia. But then-

“Why are you still here?” He asks, thinking. “Don’t you have family looking for you? Friends?” Varian’s cute, he might even have a lover- even if that would low-key break Hugo’s heart to see such an adorable face off the market. Varian shakes his head, sadly stirring his own lunch.

“Nothing.” He says, “Either there’s no one out there, or they’re not looking. That’s where the master went, to go talk to some of his contemporaries in other kingdoms. He’s looking for something to help me get my memories back.”

“Can he do that?” Hugo asks, mostly to himself. Varian only shrugs.

“Maybe? Magic is a pretty varied subject, or so my master says.” He says, finally taking a bite. Hugo tries to be casual about it, but he’s shoveling the food into his mouth- he’s _hungry_ , hungrier than he thought he was, as if once he got a tiny bite into his stomach a feral thing had woken up and demanded more. He pauses for breath after a good half minute, and keeps questioning; if Varian’s in a talkative mood, Hugo’s going to ask away.

“So you just stay here?”

Varian nods with a smile. “My master takes care of me.” He says, “Memory issues caused by trauma can also cause other problems of the mind. If I wander too far, I could end up lost again.”

“And that’s why the wards keep you inside?”

Varian shrugs. “The master knows what’s best for me.” He says, almost like a mantra. “He gives me room and board, and in return I take care of the house.”

“Seems like an okay trade.” Hugo muses. “Can’t go too wrong with that.”

Varian nods, eating another spoonful of his meal. “He’s trying to fix me. I can’t ever repay him for that, and everything else he’s done to help me.” The younger teen looks a mile away, lost in thought. “I owe him a great debt.”

Hugo thinks of Donella. Grits his teeth.

“You don’t remember _anything_?” He asks, burying the topic deep. Varian shakes his head sadly, picking at a piece of bread.

“Not a thing.” He murmurs. “I do get… dreams. Flashes. But they’re never anything useful, and the master says they’re not real.”

“How would he know?” Hugo grumbles. Varian pauses, looking nervous. Something tells Hugo he’s had that exact thought in his head before.

“It’s small things.” Varian says. “The smell of apples, a city made of white marble. Sometimes, I see a girl, with long, blond hair. She calls me her brother. The master says it’s just my mind trying to fill in the blanks with lies.”

“And you think that’s right?”

“I think my master wouldn’t lie to me.” Varian grunts. Hugo tenses, setting his spoon down onto the counter. The chill in the air turns _frigid_. “I think he’s taken care of me, and I trust him- _more than I trust you_.”

Varian pushes himself back from the island, standing quickly. Hugo doesn’t try to stop him as he leaves the kitchen in a huff, leaving Hugo behind. The blond sighs, picking up his spoon again. He fucked that one up, it seems, but at least he had a little bit more knowledge as to what the hell was going on in this house of horrors.

With a grunt, he shoves another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

It’s infuriatingly good.

****

The next day is quiet.

If Varian’s to be believed, then his _master_ is due back at the mansion tomorrow. Hugo has a limited amount of time before he’s fucked like a ten-dollar whore, and his corpse is due to be buried in the gardens surrounding the house. Hugo grits his teeth, pissed all to hell, because there’s just one problem.

He can’t get Varian’s hurt face out of his _head_.

Hugo had fucked up that conversation, that much was obvious, but… well, maybe he felt a bit guilty. Varian was obviously ill, at the very least. There was no reason for the other teen to lie, after all, and Hugo had thrown the truth back in his face. Varian had cooked for him, had tried to assure Hugo that his master was a nice person- and Hugo had been a right dick.

Classic.

The blond grumbles as he fumbles around the kitchen, the same one Varian had abandoned him in before. It had been a challenge to find his way back, but he’d done it- and now, despite wanting to claw his own eyes out, he wanted to try and do something _nice_. The word makes his skin crawl, but to be fair, Hugo was the one who fucked up.

And, if Varian’s master’s a dick, maybe Varian would stick up for Hugo if they were on better terms again.

The kitchen smells like fire, and something like dead fish. Hugo scowls at the cookbook he’d found on a shelf, one more mistake away from tearing the recipe to shreds and burning the book for good measure. He was just trying to make _pasta_ of all things- he’d picked it because it was supposed to be _easy_ ; but in the hour since he’d started, he’d overcooked the pasta, added too much salt to the sauce when the lid of the salt shaker had popped off and dumped the whole thing in, hell, he’d even managed to fuck up the sauce _again_ when cooking it in too small a pot, causing it to overboil and slop down the side.

So the dinner prep was going _great_ , thank you for asking.

Hugo steps on a small fire that had started near one of the hearths, stomping on it with no small amount of concern. It putters out, but leaves a gross little smudge on the tiles. Great.

“Fucking hell,” He mutters to himself, “Light the whole bloody mansion on fire, why don’t I? It’ll go great.”

“I’d ask what you’re doing, but it looks like even you don’t know.”

Ah, fuck. The man of the hour.

“Varian!” Hugo crows, holding his arms out as if displaying the disaster of a kitchen. “So nice of you to drop by!”

Varian inches into the kitchen with an arched brow, looking at the chaos. “I thought I smelled smoke.” He murmurs, “And it seems I was right. What are you doing?”

“What I am _doing_ ,” Hugo grumbles, “Is trying to be _nice,_ goggles. Maybe some appreciation would be swell.”

The pot behind him bursts into flames.

Varian shouts in shock, running to the flames with a frantic expression. Hugo whirls around with scared squeal, backing away and tripping over his own feet as Varian snags a dishtowel and grabs at the pot, taking it off the fire with precise movements. The shorter boy carries the fire over to a metal sink, dropping it in and snagging a nearby bucket of water, tossing the liquid in and dousing the flames. The pot sputters, spitting its last as the flames drown out. Smoke rises from the sink, putrid with the stink of burnt tomato paste and onions- near black as it fills the kitchen.

There’s silence as they stare at the sink together. Hugo cringes at the smell, sinking into himself a bit. Varian backs away from the smouldering ruins of the pot, expression unreadable. Hugo’s brain stutters, _fuck, way to go, jackass, make things worse, this is what you get for trying to be nice_ -

Varian bursts out laughing.

“What the hell?!” He gasps out, “It’s… was it supposed to be stew?”

“Pasta.” Hugo sighs, looking to the floor. Varian laughs even harder, bent double so that his head is nearly at his knees.

“Sun above,” He gasps, wiping away tears, “How did you- _that badly_.”

Hugo shrugs, joining in on the giggles before he can help himself. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents- just not cooking, it seems.”

Varian laughs harder.

Hugo joins him.

Eventually they end up in the library again, eating simple ham sandwiches together on one of the couches. Varian’s easy to talk to, if Hugo’s real with himself, they share a humour and a passion in the sciences. Varian snorts when he laughs- it makes Hugo’s heart flutter. The library’s warm, despite it being close to midnight by the time they’re done. Varian had shown Hugo something he was calling a _phonograph_ , a small machine that played music after being wound tight. Hugo found it fascinating, the way the soft music fills the room.

“Don’t you ever think of leaving?” Hugo asks at one point, food long done and the drowsiness of the past-midnight hours setting in. The two of them lay on the carpeted floor so that their heads are side by side, only a scant foot between their faces, with their feet going in opposite directions. Varian sighs, staring long and hard at the ceiling.

“Of course I have.” He says, picking at his gloves. “I always have. But it’s dangerous out there, if I were by myself, I’d be dead before the week was up.”

“But… what if you weren’t alone?”

This is a bad idea, a bad, _bad_ idea- but Hugo can’t help it. Hugo’s leaving the mansion one way or the other once Varian’s master returns, be it walking away or in a body bag. But after spending more and more time together, he doesn’t want to let Varian go. Doesn’t want to leave him behind.

Varian bites at his lip, thinking.

“The master would never allow it.” He says, sad, melancholy.

“Not with him, then.” Fuck, Hugo just keeps pushing. Varian turns to him then, looking Hugo in the eye.

“Maybe someday.” He says. “When I’m fixed.”

“But what if you’re not broken?”

The words are out before Hugo can stop them. They ring in the silence they leave behind, the only noise is the soft music from the phonograph. Varian sits up, looking down at Hugo with curious eyes.

“But my memories…” He trails off, thinking.

“Make new ones.” Hugo shrugs like it’s nothing. Varian’s eyes go a little wider, thinking hard, but he still shakes his head.

“I need to stay.” He says, “There’s too many questions.”

It’s disappointing, but Hugo plays it off. “Suit yourself,” He says, and lets the conversation drift again.

They sit like that for hours, into the early morning. Neither of them notice the late (and then early) hour until the sun starts to peek through the curtains of the library windows- Varian looks to them with a shocked expression, blinking.

“Oh.” He gasps, “Morning already?”

It’s day three.

Oh.

“The master will be back soon.” Varian murmurs, biting his lip. Hugo shrugs, trying for nonchalant. Varian tenses for another second, before bolting to his feet. “C’mon.”

Hugo rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself off the carpet, stumbling to his feet after hours of not moving. “Where are we going?”

“You’re getting out.” Varian says, looking over his shoulder for a second before leaving the room. Hugo jogs after him, shocked.

“Wait, I- goggles, _wait-_ ”

Varian doesn’t stop, walking to the center of the entrance hall. The symbol embedded in the floor is still there, large and imposing in a dark maroon against the white tiles. Hugo looks at it- still no fucking idea what it’s supposed to be, but Varian kneels at the edge of it with a sort of complicated expression. It’s not fear, not quite, but it’s _close_.

“What’s happening- _hey_?” Hugo says, kneeling down next to Varian and taking his shaking hands. Varian looks scared, near frantic; it doesn’t sit well with Hugo at all. “Hey,” Hugo tries again. He does his best not to flinch when Varian’s haunted gaze meets his own. “Deep breath, what are you doing?”

“I-” Varian chokes on the words, but shakes himself. “The master will kill you, he doesn’t take well to trespassers.”

Hugo’s heart sinks at that, but he keeps pressing. “No, hey, I can get past him, it’s okay.”

“ _No._ ” Varian says, “You won’t. He’s killed people before- no he hasn’t… maybe he has? But why do I remember it… it was half a year ago” Varian trails off, looking more and more haunted as the seconds tick by.

“For breaking in?” Damn, the guy sounds more intense that Hugo had anticipated. Varian shudders, a full body thing that has Hugo gently touching his elbow. The floor under Hugo’s knees is freezing, colder than it really should be indoors.

“He’s murdered over less.” Varian whispers. He leans down to the sigil in the marble, pressing his palms down onto it. The outline of the shape starts to glow a bright red, overtaking the glow of the torches and the weak sunlight streaming in. Hugo tilts his head, watching with fascination as the crest shines brighter and brighter before, with a great _crack_ that sounds like thunder, the floor splits down the middle. The light dims, fading entirely. All that’s left behind is a large split down the middle of the design, torn open like a great, bloody wound.

The house _shudders_ , as if rumbled down to the very bones. Items rattle on their shelves, paintings drop from the walls. The wood and stone groan in pain as the house wails its agony to the sky. Something in the air, that sense of electricity that had haunted Hugo since the moment he arrived, dies out, leaving an empty shell of a building behind. Things settle quickly after that, the building sinking back to its roots and falling dormant once more.

The two humans stay quiet from their place on the floor, Hugo gaping at the massive, foot wide crack in the marble. Varian shudders again, his hands clenched in pain as he nearly bends double over the stone. That’s enough to draw Hugo from his staring, the blond putting a hesitant hand on the smaller teen’s back. The boy shakes himself, trying to sit straight again with a grimace.

“Okay.” Varian mutters, his voice strained and near breaking. “It’s done.”

“Just like that?” Hugo asks, mind whirling. It was _so easy_ -

“Just like that.” Varian slouches a little more, looking like he’s just signed his own death warrant. There’s a second of silence, before the smaller boy looks up with a grim determination. “You need to go.” He says. Varian pushes himself up with shaking arms, but Hugo meets him halfway, and pulls him up until they’re both standing.

“I- won’t he be mad?” Hugo stutters, caught looking between Varian and the door. Varian grimaces, but shakes his head.

“He won’t kill me.” _That’s not great reassurance_ , “You need to go.”

Hugo’s hands go to Varian’s upper arms, staring deeply into those baby blue eyes. Varian looks scared, near terrified- it wasn’t right, it wasn’t _fair_ -

“Come with me.” Hugo says again, “I know you want your memories back, but we can find our own way- make new memories. You deserve better.”

“I can’t-”

“But you _should_. What’s left for you, living alone in this dusty old house?” 

Varian’s eyes are watery, near tears. “I… okay.” He finally sighs. His head falls forwards, resting on Hugo’s chest. It’s a soft touch, the butterflies in Hugo’s stomach flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks, as if he can’t believe it. Varian looks up to meet his eye, smiling through watery eyes.

“Yeah.” He says, “Let’s go.”

“Leaving so soon, Varian?” Comes a third, male voice. The two teenagers whip around to face the double doors, tensing at the sight of a tall, muscular figure. The man walks into the house with a confident stride, followed by a small group of people. There’s a large man, a woman with a frankly massive amount of hair, and a small, portly, elderly woman. Hugo knows these people- and knows the man in front of him is the owner of the house. Donella had told him all about him, of course she had, she wasn’t stupid enough to send Hugo in unaware as to who he was messing with, but to see the man in front of him was a _vastly different_ feeling. And Varian’s hands, shaking and gripping tight in pure fear, are enough to set Hugo on edge as the man draws closer.

Andrew of Saporia stalks into his destroyed main hall with a sense of confidence Hugo would kill to have. The blond’s always been a _fake it till you make it_ kind of person; he keeps his back ramrod straight even as Varian’s hands grip tight enough to cut off circulation in his arms. Andrew looks to Hugo, but once his eyes flick to the floor before settling on Varian, he smiles.

“Come here, kid.” He says, holding a hand out, palm up. Varian tenses from behind Hugo, but still moves out from behind the blond. When he passes, blue eyes meet green, near tears.

“Sorry.” He whispers, walking to stand in front of Andrew. The man’s smile turns smug as the boy draws close, even as Varian shudders in fear. He takes Varian’s chin in a gentle grip, tilting it this way and that in a calculating manner. Varian goes with the motions, submissive; it makes Hugo’s blood boil.

“What happened?” It’s a flat question, but loaded. Varian bites at his lip, even as Andrew drops his chin and looks at him expectantly. The boy goes to answer, but Hugo’s faster.

“I found your freaky fucking house, is what happened!” He spits, moving forwards. Varian goes pale, wide eyes flicking between Andrew and Hugo with a sense of horror. Hugo draws up, nearly half a head shorter than Andrew but still trying to size him up. The blond shoves Varian behind him, putting himself between the two.

Andrew laughs, a bitter, angry thing as he looks between Varian and Hugo. “So this is what you’ve been up to while I was away?” He asks, as if Hugo’s not even here. The blond bristles, meeting Andrew’s eye.

“Your shitty spell locked me in here.” He spits, “Just like you did to Varian.”

Andrew shrugs, arching a brow. “It’s for his own good, poor little fool’s a blank slate.”

Varian shakes again, pressing tight to Hugo’s back- but the blond instead moves even closer to Andrew, scowling.

“It’s still _fucked up_ , you son of a bitch-”

He’s cut off when he feels a large set of hands grab him by the shoulders, dragging him back and away from Andrew with a rough tug. Varian cries his name, but Hugo’s forced back and away by the large man- Kai, if Hugo’s information is correct- and held in place. Andrew smiles at that, looping an arm around Varian’s shoulders and pulling him into an awkward, one armed hug.

“Your boyfriend’s a little pissy.” He says to the smaller boy, looking at Hugo with a smug face. Varian looks downright miserable, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. Hugo’s blood boils at the flippant way Andrew’s treating Varian, like an object, a toy-

“Boss.” One of the women, the younger one, says, entering the room from outside. She carries a helmet, one of golden metal and carved into an intricate design. The woman tosses it to the ground at their feet, scowling. “It’s just guard uniforms- we can’t use this for shit, Andrew.”

“Could you put a pin in that, please, we’re in the middle of something,” Andrew sighs. The man pauses, however, when Varian twitches. Hugo watches with abject horror as Varian stares at the helmet, his eyes suddenly glowing a horrifying white, taking over the entire shape of Varian’s eyes, eating away until there’s no blue to be seen. The Coronian emblem carved into the helmet stares back up at him.

“Aw _fuck_ ,” Andrew spits, moving so that he holds Varian by the shoulders. The boy’s nearly limp, twitching as if in seizure; his lips move like he’s talking, though Varian makes no noise. Hugo watches with terror as Varian violently seizes in Andrew’s grip. The man scowls, shaking the boy lightly.

“ _Fuck, Juniper_.” Andrew sounds furious, looking to the woman. “You set him off again- son of a _bitch,_ we _just_ wiped him, now we’re going to have to do it again.”

Hugo struggles again as Varian’s eyes blink once, twice, a third time; the next time they open they’re back to their normal blue, but _terrified_.

“ _Rapunzel_!” He screams, falling to the floor. Andrew lets him drop, glaring at Juniper. Varian covers his mouth in pure terror, tears welling up in his eyes. There’s something new in them, Hugo realizes with a start. Before, there had always been a layer of confusion and cloudiness in Varian’s eyes, like he was never really fully aware of what was happening. Now?

Now Varian is _very_ awake.

“Welcome back, buddy,” Andrew sneers, looming over the boy on the floor. Varian glares up at him with a look of such malice- Hugo didn’t even know he could make that kind of face at all, to be honest, but Varian pulls it off rather well.

“ _Andrew_!” He spits, pushing himself off the floor, “You _fucker-_ ”

“Oh, every time we do this, you’re always so _upset_.” Andrew tuts. Varian tries to swing a punch at the taller man, but the brunet catches him by the wrist, tugging Varian close. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“ _Fuck you_!” Varian shouts. It echoes around the hallway like the ringing of a funeral bell. “You _kidnapped me_ you sick son of a bitch!”

Oh. Oh _shit_ a lot of things suddenly click in Hugo’s mind. A dawning sense of horror floods his veins at the realization of just _what’s_ been going on hits him like a train. He’d feared Varian was just some poor schmuck who’d been tricked into partial slavery by this asshole but-

“Yeah.” Andrew snickers, “And your precious big sister’s been nice and _compliant_ while you’ve been staying here.”

_Fuck_.

The tears in Varian’s eyes threaten to spill over, the rage on his face something beautiful. He roughly fights Andrew’s grip on him, but can’t hope to break the man’s hold.

“It’s been a good year.” Andrew’s grin gets sharper, flashing in the weak sunlight. “This is what, round four or five? Every time I think we’re in the clear you just _have_ to start remembering, kid; it’s a pain in my ass.”

“Good!” Varian hisses, and Hugo can see a sudden tenseness in his spine.

Things happen very quickly after that.

Varian draws a foot back and slams his heel into Andrew’s knee with a sharp movement. The crack of bone is loud in the echoing hall, but Andrew’s scream of pain quickly overtakes it. Varian pulls himself from the man’s laxing grip, using his few seconds of shock well. Kai’s hands drop from Hugo’s shoulders, the larger man moving to help his leader. Hugo sprints for Varian before he can figure out anything else, the two of them making a break down the hall opposite from the library.

Andrew’s angry shouting trails after them as they run, the sound of footsteps dogging their heels. Hugo ends up tugging Varian into the room he’d snuck into the mansion from. Together they grab one of the couches, dragging it across the floorboards and shoving it against the wooden door. The door rattles on its hinges as the Saporians yell for them to open it, the banging quickly turning aggressive.

“Time to go,” Hugo says with a small bow, gesturing towards the open window. Varian nods, taking the que and hopping out in a smooth motion. The blond follows, taking a second to scoop up his bag at long last as he does so. Something in him feels a little better at having his supplies with him, though he takes the time to part out a few bombs and pass them to Varian before they move on.

“Here.” He says, shoving them into Varian’s hands. “Just in case.”

Varian’s face is grim, but determined. They sprint around to the front of the house, stopping around the corner and peeking around the siding to see the Saporians out front. The dead grass under their feet crunches, the lawn dying quickly with the ward destroyed. With the ward destroyed, the house is nothing more than a corpse.

“Find that little shit!” Andrew barks, limping. “We need him, if he escapes, and gets back home, we’re _fucked-_ ”

“What a morning.” Hugo grumbles. Varian snorts, backing off.

“You’re telling me.” He mutters. “You can’t _imagine_ the headache I have.”

“But you remember?” It’s pretty obvious he does, but Hugo has to make sure. Varian nods, looking a mile away. The smile that creeps across his face is something sad, soft.

“I’m from Corona,” And oh, doesn’t he sound so happy to know that. “I have a sister- and a dad! We were fighting the Saporians… and they took me, to keep her from attacking them.”

“Shit, goggles.” Hugo mutters, “Can’t be fun.”

“They kept wiping my memories.” Varian looks haunted. “Over and over. I’d start to remember who I was, who my _family_ is, and they’d just…” He holds up a hand to the side of his head and moves it away with a flutter of his fingers. “Gone. No more. Until I remembered again.”

“ _Fuck_.” Hugo hisses. “Time to get out of dodge, get you away from them. Guess you don’t have a quick way out?”

“The Saporians use balloons.” Varian peeks back out past the corner. Andrew and his cronies have moved on in their search, leaving, lo and behold, a hot air balloon parked on the lawn. Hugo nods, already thinking.

“Think you can fly it?” He asks, and Varian scoffs.

“I built the thing.” He says, something like pride in his voice. “Fastest balloon in the seven kingdoms, right there. They stole it the night they… well the night I came to live here.”

He looks to Hugo then, the fear long gone. All that’s left there is fury, and a solidified decisiveness. It’s an incredibly attractive look on him; something in Hugo likes this newer, more grounded Varian. The way he walks, maybe, or the newfound confidence- either way, it’s a nice thing to see. If Hugo also casually keeps the reminder that Varian was indeed single in mind… well that’s only for him to know.

They make their way across the dead grass. It’s open space between the house and the balloon, a risky venture; they could be spotted easily without anything to hide behind, and so close to the house. They’d already lost track of the Saporians- and a missing enemy was a dangerous one. The balloon is a marvel of engineering, a perfect interlock of gears and alchemy that makes Hugo drool. Varian works the machine like it’s an old friend, quickly starting the fire.

“Just have to wait for it to heat up.” He says to Hugo, who nods. “Shouldn’t be more than a minute- _shit, Hugo look out!_ ”

The blond barely has time to think before something solid collides with his head. A flash of fiery pain bursts from the place he’s hit, Hugo crumping to the floor of the wicker basket. His ears ring with a high-pitched toll, his vision swims-

But over all of it, he can hear Varian scream.

Hugo’s vision fuzzes in and out in a series of images in between each blink, the world flipping in and out in short, disjointed bursts.

The first, the blue sky. Fluffy, white clouds that gently float in the blue expanse. The very tops of trees around the edge. The feeling of being dragged, moved. The edge of the basket coming and going.

The second, laying on his side. Grass tickling his nose. His glasses askew. The sight of Varian being hoisted up and out of the balloon by Kai. The shorter boy snarls as the big lug manhandles him, kicking his legs furiously as his arms are pinned in what’s basically a bearhug.

The third, Andrew drawing closer to Varian with a look of pure malice. The younger teen squirming with rage as the man taunts him. Varian spitting in Andrew’s face. Getting slapped. Varian aiming another kick, getting smacked again.

The world finally stops spinning.

The ringing dies down, the noise of the world filtering back in piece by piece. Andrew’s holding something now, a dark… stick? No, fuck, that’s a wand. Probably the thing that they’ve used on Varian to wipe his memories, if the way those blue eyes widen in horror when Varian sees it is any indication.

“Get that away from me!” He yells, kicking harder. Andrew sneers, dodging a bare foot.

“Will you just _knock it off_!” Andrew snaps, raising a hand into the air to slap him again. Varian flinches back, tensing and waiting to be hit. The man smirks, dropping his hand and bringing the wand close to the boy’s face, as if mocking him.

Hugo’s up like a shot, ignoring a rush of vertigo, running for the three of them. None of the Saporians notice him, but the wand’s drawing close to Varian’s skin, only a hairsbreadth away-

The blond lets out a shout just as the wand makes contact.

Varian lets out a pained screech, his eyes glowing white just like they had before. Hugo keeps his inertia, using the speed to bodily tackle Andrew away from the smaller boy. He’s got a goo-bomb in his hand before he can think, bringing it down on Andrew and gluing the man to the dead grass. Andrew’s stunned by the sudden shift, but not for long. The man howls in rage as Hugo rolls off of him, out of range.

“You little _shit_!” He hollers, struggling against the goo keeping him pinned. The wand, snapped in half, lies next to him. Hugo only smiles, backing out of smacking range with a smug grin.

He whirls around, only just able to dodge a hollering Kai as the man runs forwards. With another well-timed bomb, Kai’s feet end up stuck as well, the man falling forwards with a _thump_. Andrew shouts again, a series of threats and half formed curses, but Hugo tunes him out, running for where Kai had seemingly dropped a limp Varian into the dirt.

He flips Varian onto his back, tapping lightly at freckled cheeks. “Oh, shit.” Hugo mutters, “Hairstripe? Hey, you in there? Want to maybe wake up?”

The boy groans, and it’s a great sound. Those blue eyes flutter open, fixing on Hugo with a curious expression.

“Who-?” Varian cuts himself off, looking around before settling back on Hugo. “Where… what’s happening?”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Varian?” Hugo asks, desperate, but already getting the sinking feeling in his gut. It only gets worse, a knot forming in Hugo’s throat when the name doesn’t spark any sort of recognition in Varian’s eyes.

“Who is that?”

Hugo’s heart breaks. He grits his teeth, leaning back. They have to move. They have to _leave_ , but… Varian looks at him with such curiosity, not a bit of recognition, and it _hurts_.

“You are, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo murmurs, “Your name is Varian, you’re from a kingdom called Corona.”

It doesn’t seem to do anything for Varian to know that, but he still nods, sitting up. His eyes land on Andrew, brows scrunching in confusion.

“Who are they?” He asks, looking at the hollering men.

“They’re… bad people.” Hugo replies, “They tried to hurt you. It’s why you can’t remember anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We should get away from them.” Thankfully, Varian goes willingly, taking Hugo’s offered hand and letting the blond pull him to his feet. He leads Varian away from the Saporians, towards the balloon. Varian looks at the mansion with curiosity, tilting his head as they step aboard the wicker basket.

“Something about this place seems familiar.” Varian mumbles. He turns to Hugo, wearing that same expression. “Same with you.”

“We’re friends.” Hugo says. It’s bitter on his tongue, but he says it anyways. “I’m going to take you home-”

Wait.

_Wait_.

“Wait here!” Hugo suddenly shouts, jumping from the balloon. He doesn’t stop to check if Varian follows the direction, instead sprinting back into the house. It’s like entering a tomb, the dust finally beginning to settle. The house feels hollow, strange.

But the helmet is still there.

Hugo scoops it up with deft hands, spinning on his heel and running back to the balloon. Varian’s still there, looking towards the house with a confused expression.

“Here!” Hugo shoves the helmet at him, gasping for breath after running. “Look at this, what do you think?”

“It’s… nice?” Varian says, arching a brow. “Is it yours?”

“No, it…” _Fuck,_ he’d hoped that would have worked. “I was hoping it would help. It did before.”

The twisting sorrow in Hugo’s gut settles into a tight knot. Varian- the Varian Hugo knows and lo… likes very much- is probably gone. Who knows if he’d ever get his memories back? Tears prick at Hugo’s eyes, burning and hot. He’s _not_ going to cry, damn it, but he’s coming close.

“Hugo, c’mon.” Varian sighs, “I already told you I don’t remember anything.”

Wait.

“Say that again.” Hugo demands, grabbing Varian by the shoulders. The younger boy pouts, shoving at him, but complies.

“I _said_ ,” His face twists into a little frown, “I don’t remember anything.”

“No, I- I never told you my name.” And he hadn’t. Which meant…

“I. No, you didn’t.” Varian pauses, thinking hard. “But I know you from somewhere. You’re Hugo.”

The blond smiles, the tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re Varian.” He says, like a mantra.

“You… you burned the pasta.” Oh. Oh _shit_ \- “And we had sandwiches.”

“ _Yes_!” Hugo crows, “Yes, exactly! Keep going, goggles!”

“And then we listened to music, and I broke Andrew’s seal because-” Varian pauses, looking up at Hugo and blushing. The blond stops smiling, furrowing his brow.

“Because why?” He asks, confused as Varian leans forwards.

“Because I really like you.” Varian says firmly, “As more than a friend.”

Hugo can barely compute that statement before Varian leans close and seals their lips together in a soft kiss. It’s like a smoldering fire, lax and lazy like they have all the time in the world. It’s good, a kiss that’s delicate and would be easy to pull away from.

Hugo doesn’t.

****

It takes them a few days to get to Corona.

The rest of Varian’s memories came back in small spurts, flashes here or there as the effects of gaining, losing, and _regaining_ the memories slowly took their course. It’s easy, though, the two of them piloting the hot air balloon towards Varian’s home. Calm. Quiet. Simple. Varian hangs off of Hugo like a limpet a lot of the time, insisting that it’s that he _doesn’t trust Hugo not to crash_ , though the blond would call bullshit- he’s a better pilot that Varian is, when you get down to it.

The city looms before them, glittering and bright. Varian maneuvers the balloon down to the courtyard of the castle, avoiding the towers with prescience movements. Hugo can’t help but feel a pinch of dread as he does so, clinging to the basket and looking down as a group of people stare up at them.

“Well, they’ll definitely know we’re here.” He mutters, sinking down into the basket with a grimace. Varian only laughs, setting them down properly onto the cobblestone of the courtyard and switching the balloon off.

“It’ll be okay.” He says, “Rapunzel’ll already be freaking out, I’m sure.”

Lo and behold, a blur of purple sprints from the castle not a minute later. “ _Varian_!” The woman screams, bowling the boy over in a frantic hug. “ _Ohmigosh you came home! Where were you, we looked everywhere, Andrew-_ ”

Varian opens his mouth, tries to speak. Sobs. Clings to his sister just as tightly as she hugs him. The tears run thick down both their cheeks, the two of them clinging tightly together, rocking back and forth as they cry.   
  
“It was Andrew,” Varian finally spits out between the tears. “He had me in a mansion on the border, an old outpost-”

“He’s dead when I find him.” Rapunzel hisses, “I hope he enjoys a face full of frying pan-”

Varian laughs wetly, finally stepping back from his sister. “Hugo saved me.” He says, gesturing to the blond, who waves awkwardly. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to care for semantics, letting go of Varian to draw Hugo into a hug of his own.

“Thank you!” She crows. Hugo can’t breathe. “Thank you, _thank_ you! I owe you _everything_!”

When she backs off, Varian shoulders closer to Hugo with a grin. “I think she likes you.” He whispers, and Hugo can’t help but laugh.

“That’s just because you like me.” He says it with an easy grin, like he’s sure of it. Varian smiles back, leaning up for a small kiss. Hugo meets him halfway, the two of them reveling in each other’s presence.

“I guess I do.” Varian smiles, “If I can remember what your name is.”

“Hardy-har.” Hugo mutters, “I should have left you in that shitty house.”

“But you didn’t.” Varian leans up again, eyes pleading.

“No.” Hugo says, already leaning closer. “I don’t think I could leave you behind after this.” Their lips meet again, the world shrinking down to just the two of them in their own little bubble.

Varian’s smile, when they separate, shines brighter than gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS A DAY LATE but hopefully from the size of this installment it's kind of obvious why lmao 
> 
> Thanks for reading guys!! And a BIG kudos to Alistairwrites, who set this whole thing up!

**Author's Note:**

>  _Pops in_ I'm still on a break but I can't resist the allure of Varigo week oops


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